


Desperate and Broken (The Sound of a Fight)

by Fallon_SF



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: BAMF Neil, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Can I make Riko and Lola tags?, Cannibalism, Fae & Fairies, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Supernatural creatures! au, There are wendigos...they eat people, Unhealthy Power dynamics (not the ships), Vampires, Werewolves, check end notes for chapter triggers, like...so slow, other creatures, they should be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-10-10 17:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20531675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallon_SF/pseuds/Fallon_SF
Summary: After years on the run from his father, Neil might have finally found a place to belong among the Foxes unique group - dedicated to helping supernatural creatures escape bad situations. But whether or not he’ll be able to keep it all becomes more complicated when threats from his past creep up and he suddenly finds himself fighting to protect those around him as well as his own secrets.A.K.A. a dark au where most everyone is a supernatural creature, the mafia are immortals terrorizing pretty much everyone around them and, as usual, Neil’s attitude problem overpowers his survival instincts.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> TW in chapter end notes.

“The Council’s decision is final Mary, you know I can’t -”

“The Council’s decision is bigoted. You’re all just too afraid to do anything about it.”

“You can still stay here.”

“And what? Leave my child to the horrors his father has laid out for him?” Mary scoffed. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. This _ is _the family sent me to wed him in the first place.”

“Well I...That’s not what…”

“Save it Stuart. The damage is already done.”

Abram heard the sound of his mother’s footsteps striding towards his hiding place. Snooping around the corner wasn’t a particularly intelligent past time, especially now that he had no time to backtrack to a safer distance. His mother would be less than pleased.

Still, the fury in her face when she rounded the corner caused an involuntary cringe from the boy. He waited for the punishment to come, but Mary’s gaze merely slid across him and she beckoned him down the hallway after her. Abram stayed frozen for a moment and then his soft footsteps scrambled to catch up with the crisp echoing of his mother’s heals on the tile. He didn’t bother asking where they were going and Mary didn’t bother explaining.

They’d gone to the Hatfords seeking sanctuary. 

Evidently, that was a mistake.

In his long and troubled life so far, Abram had very little contact with his mother’s people. The elves were half to blame for the situation of his birth, but wanted nothing to do with him. Vampires weren’t supposed to be able to father children. His father was never supposed to have an heir. But the ancient blood that flowed through Mary’s veins ignited some strange magic and brought Abram into the world anyway. It was the Hatford’s magical heritage that gave him the ability to act and survive like a human, to walk in the light, bear the weight of a silver cross pressed up against his skin, attend church with his mother. 

This was the first time he’d seen any of the Hatfords since Lola and Romero dragged him across the Atlantic to his father’s new territory nearly a century ago and they’d made it very clear it would be the last as well.

The mother and son didn’t talk as they packed up their bags - what little of them had even been unpacked in the first place. In fact, talking slowed to a minimum for the remainder of their time in Europe unless it was to practice a new language in the privacy of their latest apartment.

Years later, as Abram watched his mother’s bones blacken inside of a cheap, stolen car in California, he wished they’d talked a little more. Wished he’d asked more questions; gotten more _ answers. _ He’d gone his entire unnaturally long life with someone else calling the shots. In all of his fantasies about what it might be like to finally have control of his own fate, the daywalker hadn’t factored in the all-encompassing panic of being alone.

_ First, _ he thought to himself after counting to ten in every language he knew and willing away the dark spots from his vision.

First, he needed a _ name. _


	2. Chapter 2

Neil let out a curse under his breath as one of his picks slipped and dropped the pin he’d spent the last ten seconds attempting to locate. At this rate, he’d have more luck breaking the door down and not getting caught, for how long he’d been suspiciously crouched in front of it. Usually he could pick a standard lock like this in 30 seconds, but tonight it was already taking him twice as long as usual. He quickly counted to ten in his head and then found the pin again, lifting it up to the right height. Hopefully he’d have better concentration once he got inside and found some food and a dry corner to hide in for the night. 

He didn’t think any of his father’s people were onto him, not after a year of silence, but he’d still feel better once he was inside a home and out of their reach.

Finally, the last pin clicked into place and Neil could turn the knob and enter his temporary sanctuary. He stepped inside quickly and silently, shutting the door behind him. This particular house had been empty for at least a month before Neil thought it safe to use, though never for more than a night at a time. He’d seen it rented out to people before, so it was safe enough to assume it would have food that wouldn’t be noticed if it went missing and the neighbors were unlikely to care about a stranger inside. It was one of his few options that had running water too, so after he raided the pantry for a can of beans and some instant rice, he took a brief shower. Then it was a simple evening of checking the dye in his hair and taking stock of the belongings he had meticulously packed in his duffle before hunkering under the window of one of the second story bathrooms. He then sank into a surprisingly deep sleep.

After seven years on the run, Neil should have known better than to trust anything resembling a good night’s sleep. When he awoke with a start, it was to the sound of a car door slamming just below his window. He muffled a curse and scrambled to try and sneak a glance at the new arrivals without being seen himself. The early light of dawn made it hard to decipher, but he thought he caught sight of at least two men. They were moving with sluggish purpose - intent on getting inside, but not with the kind of fervor that his father’s people would have. Still, if he didn’t get downstairs quickly and quietly, then his only escape option was a second story window.

He scrambled to throw the straps of his duffle across his body and secured it with an arm as he snuck across the tiled floor out to the carpeted hall. He was at the opposite end of the landing from the stairs and he winced as he heard the key click and then the front door opening and closing. Two men were bickering, about what he didn’t particularly care, not when it sounded like they were headed for the den and office. Neil couldn’t believe his luck. If he could sneak down the stairs and into the kitchen while they were still on the other side of the wall, then he could hide in the garage until the coast was clear.

Neil made it down the steps without any problems, able by now to avoid the creaky spots, but that was where his luck ran out.

Not more than a step into the kitchen and a body was slamming against him. Neil scrambled for where he remembered the knife block was, desperate for something to defend himself with before whoever had caught him got a better shot. He didn’t have much luck, however, as the person closed in and had him pressed face-down against the counter within moments. One of his hands was caught between his ribs and the edge of the countertop while the other was firmly pinned to its surface where he had it stretched out toward the knives. It took Neil a moment to recalibrate after the force of his assailant’s hold, and the continued weight on his back completely knocked the breath out of him. 

That same moment was more than enough for the men from before to hear the commotion and come running into the kitchen.

“Andrew what the fuck -?”

An angry older man commanded. Neil turned his head as much and the hand on the back of his neck allowed and was afforded a sideways view of an older man bearing down on them from the doorway. Even though the anger wasn’t directed at him, he had to force down a flinch. The spots in his vision obscured enough about the man that all Neil could see were the similarities to his father.

“I caught a rabbit.”

The person holding Neil down said. He sounded far too gleeful for someone who’d just discovered an intruder. The quicker Neil got away from him the better.

“Fuck. You.” 

He gasped, trying to wriggle out of the man’s hold to little avail.

“Let him go, Minyard.”

“What, and see if his hand makes it to the knives? Try again Coach.”

Neil watched the older man take full stock of where his visible arm was extended on the counter and then sigh. He looked down at Neil, who was suddenly glad that he’d decided to redo the color stain on his eyes last night when he’d gotten in the shower.

“If he lets go, is one of those going to end up inside a body?”

Neil couldn’t glare at the person he was actually mad at, so he settled for leveling his ire at this “Coach.”

“I’m not the one who just body slammed someone into a counter.”

Wymack’s mouth thinned and his eyebrows twitched as if to say that Neil had a point. Still, he gestured calmly to the figure still holding Neil down.

“Andrew’s a bit raw on manners.”

He said, not really an apology. His next words were aimed at the man himself.

“You know, this is why we can’t have nice things.”

“Oh Coach,” The man laughed, already easing up the pressure on Neil’s back and neck. “If he was nice, then he wouldn’t have been sneaking around in your safe house.”

“Yes, well, he’s of no use at all if you break him.”

Finally, the man’s grip released entirely. Neil sucked in a huge startling breath and whirled so he could face the two men. Even more startling than the reintroduction of oxygen was the sight of a man at least two inches shorter than Neil himself hopping up onto the opposite countertop. Even with his evident muscles, there was no way he could have held Neil down so easily like that. Before he could analyze what that meant for his chances of forcing a quick exit, however, Coach was speaking again.

“Now that that’s over, why don’t we talk about what you’re doing here.”

“Leaving.”

Neil said petulantly. 

“He came from upstairs, but this isn’t the first time he’s been here.” The short blonde said helpfully - or unhelpfully, in Neil’s case. Neil glared at him and considered the knives again. Andrew Minyard continued unphased, however and Neil’s anger turned closer to confusion. “His scent’s all over the place, but it’s faint.”

Coach sighed. 

“Not exactly what I want to hear about our safe-house.”

The blonde shrugged.

“He’s the only one.”

Neil’s eyes narrowed at Minyard’s certainty, his mind racing to put the pieces together. 

The older man pushed off from the doorway and started to turn like he was heading for the den. “Alright then, I guess you better tell us what you know about the place, Kid.”

Neil was tempted to lash out for being called a kid, but he was more worried by the fact that they wanted him to stay and talk.

“I told you, I was just here for a night and now I’m leaving. I won’t ever come back.”

“Liar.”

Minyard said with a sing-song lilt. He jumped gracefully off of the counter and pushed back into Neil’s space. The brunette had to lean back against the cabinets to avoid touching the shorter man. Minyard poked him in the chest.

“Your heart skipped a beat, and even if it hadn’t, I know you’ve been here multiple times. Try again little rabbit.”

Neil’s brain caught up finally, the puzzle pieces slotting into place.

“Fine.” He bit out, pushing Minyard’s hand away from him. “I’ll tell you what I know if you tell me what you are.”

Minyard’s grin froze in place for a moment and he blinked, the only sign that Neil’s words had any affect on him and then he was stepping out of Neil’s space and laughing.

“Ooh, Coach, this one has teeth.” He joined the older man in the doorway and gave Neil a considering glance, his head tilted to the side slightly. “Alright Rabbit, I’ll play your game. Tell Coach what he wants to know and I’ll share my secret.”

Neil couldn’t help but notice that the deal was a bit lopsided, but he was more concerned with giving answers as quickly as possible and then leaving. Minyard might have caught his lie about having been there before, but he meant it when he said he wouldn’t return. After he left this house, Neil Josten wouldn’t even exist anymore.

Appeased that there wouldn’t be any more violence, the older man led the way back to the den. He sat on the couch while Minyard perched on the armrest and Neil picked the chair closest to the back door. He could hear the third member of their party still rummaging around in the office, but he was on the other side of the couch, far enough away from Neil to ignore temporarily.

“What do you want to know?”

“I assume you’ve been squatting?” Coach began, continuing after a short pause in which Neil did not contradict him. “Tell be about what you’ve seen.”

It took roughly fifteen minutes for Neil to spill the information he’d gathered while canvasing the place over the past two months. The process would have been even quicker, but Minyard kept stopping him and pointing out whenever he was stretching the truth too much or being purposefully vague. Neil learned quickly which types of lies tripped the blonde’s lie-detecting senses and by the end the blonde barely spoke at all.

“That’s it.” He said finally, ready to be out of this disaster and go panic at the close call somewhere else. He had to stop himself as he stood and remember that he’d also been promised an answer. He looked at the blonde. “What are you?”

The man, who’s grin had only lost some of its unnatural intensity during the impromptu interrogation, now released it in full force. It took Neil a moment to realize that it wasn’t just painful looking in how it split Minyard’s face, but also because the teeth it bared were far sharper than they had any right to be. He felt his heart stutter in his chest and his breath caught in his throat.

“I’m one of the things that goes bump in the night.” 

Minyard proclaimed, his eyes flicking back up to Neil’s face from where they’d dropped to his chest a moment prior. That must have been how he knew Neil was lying, he could hear his heartbeat.

“Which one?” He asked, voice hoarse with the distinct fear that he hadn’t escaped his father’s people after all.

Minyard just leaned forward gleefully. The bastard was clearly enjoying Neil’s fear of him. “The kind that loses control once a month and eats little children lost on their way to grandma’s.”

“You’re a werewolf.”

Neil had the vague thought to be grateful he was already half-leaning on the chair as his knees went weak with relief. Minyard, on the other hand, looked vaguely confused and disappointed.

“That’s new.”

He said, but didn’t extrapolate. Neil took that as his cue to leave, standing the rest of the way and heading for the back door. The sun was fully rising now and it was too risky to go out the front. Not all of his father’s people were bound by the darkness of night. He could circle around through a few of the neighbor’s yards and exit out a couple streets over before doubling back to the bus stop. From there he’d buy a ticket to the city hub and then onto another state. It was time to leave Arizona behind.

Before he could get any further than pulling the hanging blinds out of the way, however, Coach - David Wymack, spoke again.

“You know, I understand the urge to run. But I don’t think you’re running from us, are you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Neil said, flipping up the latch resolutely. “I gave you what you wanted and now I’m leaving like I promised.”

“What if I said you could stay?”

Neil froze, halfway out the door, one foot poised above the concrete step that led to freedom. He snapped his head back to look at Wymack.

“What”

“You obviously know this area well. We’re on a job - I run a protection agency of sorts.” Neil bristled. “We could use that kind of knowledge. We can pay you, if you want.”

“I don’t need to stay here, I have money.”

“Then count it as doing me a favor, to repay the years you shaved off my life by compromising my safe-house.”

“I won’t be as useful as you think. I already told you everything I know.”

“True, but irrelevant.” Said a voice from the left and Neil nearly gave himself whiplash trying to look at the new addition to the room. Standing in the doorway behind Minyard like he owned the place was Kevin Day. If Neil thought he was fucked before, then this was…. _ this was-. _

“No.”

He spat vehemently. Wymack’s offer had been vaguely tempting before, but now it would be suicide. 

Kevin had all but disappeared from the world, both mundane and supernatural just after Mary died. The press from Evermore had cited a skiing accident and then never spoken on the issue again. Some vague rumors mentioned him moving on to a more secluded job with what most of the supernatural world regarded as vigilantes, but that was in South Carolina. Their paths should have never crossed. Neil had watched his and Riko’s movements  _ meticulously _ to ensure that they didn’t. But here he was standing in the same room with one of the few people left on the earth that might recognize who he was. The last time they’d been this close, they’d been watching Neil’s father tear a man to pieces and eat him alive. He waited for the realization to sink in - for the other shoe to drop.

Somehow though, Kevin continued like he had no sense of Neil’s impending panic attack...which...checked out. His half-fae parentage didn’t lend to those kinds of skills. Kevin’s obliviousness wasn't exactly a comfort, though.

“Andrew could have gutted you the moment he caught your scent, yet here you still are, in one piece and having given us valuable intel.”

“I’m not working with you.”

Neil reiterated, itching to put his foot down on the step rather than the weathering strip it currently rested on - itching to  _ run _ .

“Plus you’re human,” He barrelled on without even acknowledging that Neil had spoken. “You can go places the rest of us can’t. That’s worth more to us than whatever funds you have providing for the pathetic existence you’re living right now.”

Neil’s heart stuttered again. 

Kevin thought he was  _ human.  _

If Kevin thought that - and confidently enough to use it as a bargaining chip, then he had no idea who Neil  _ really _ was - of the things he was actually capable of. His knuckles went white from gripping the doorframe and relief made his stomach roil. There were so many signs that pointed to this being a bad idea, but he found himself still hesitating in the doorway nonetheless. Wymack took his silence as an opportunity to try and sweeten the pot further.

“Help us out with this job at least. We’ll set you up no questions asked wherever you want after. Or, if you like the job, but not the company, we have other teams too. Most of them greet people with a handshake, not a bodyslam.”

Nobody laughed at the joke.

Wymack didn’t look like he was expecting them to, though Andrew was still grinning like he found the entire situation amusing. Neil had heard about the trouble caused by a violent team member, and though he felt rather stupid for not connecting it to Minyard in the first place, it made sense. 

“The agency’s work is completely confidential, we work to get supernatural creatures out of abusive or inhumane situations and set up in safe, appropriate living conditions.”

“And how do you know I won’t tell the world what you are?”

It was a lame shot and the expression on Wymack’s face said he knew it.

“You’re the one who brought it up in the first place, that tells me you’ve been keeping our kind of secret for a while now just fine.”

“Plus I have your scent.” Andrew added like he thought he was being helpful. “If you snitch, then I can always track you down and tear you to shreds.”

_ You’ll have to get in line.  _ Neil thought, unimpressed with the threat.

“It’s not a good idea.”

He tried, turning his attention back to Wymack. The man nodded like he was considering this, though his words contradicted the action.

“Duly noted. Now close the door, you’re letting the bugs in.”

Neil looked down just in time to see a beetle land near his foot. He should run. He should slip the rest of the way out of this house and not stop moving until his lungs and legs burned with the effort. And then he could burn the memory and hope of it all from his mind and repeat his mother’s rules to himself until a bus came to carry him even further away. 

_ Don’t look back, don’t slow down, and don’t trust anyone. Be anyone but himself, and never be anyone for too long. _

_ But. _

But his mother’s rules were for  _ survival _ , eeking out life like the beetle crawling across his shoe with no sense of purpose. The bug had no idea it was crossing a threshold into a completely new place, but Neil felt the divide keenly. Wymack’s offer meant a chance at an actual life. It was risky, but for once, he felt like the risk might actually be worth it for a little while, at least. He’d have to be careful around Kevin, watch for the moment he started remembering Nathaniel. But until then? Until then he could pretend.

Neil flicked the beetle off his foot and shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon typical violence of Neil meeting Andrew.
> 
> You'll notice Neil's attitude problem getting him into trouble right from the start, lol


	3. Chapter 3

“The Foxes are like a supernatural protection/humane society.” Kevin had explained later that night. “Most of our work is secret, trying to get creatures away from abusive or dangerous situations and finding them suitable places and ways to live that don’t put them at odds with other supernaturals or the human population .” 

They seemed to be more organized than the rumors suggested. Although that might be because most of the rumors Neil had heard came from less than charitable sources . And that didn’t even account for the things his father’s people and the Moriyamas had said in direct ridicule. Wymack’s group had been fighting for the rights of supernaturals for years. They were trying to keep them safe in an increasingly volatile human climate and the cruel world created by people like his father. It also explained why Neil had no idea Kevin was this far west. 

It was a nice idea, Neil thought as he tried to fall asleep in the backseat of the Foxes’ SUV. The Foxes had been here to test out the relocation of several Brownies and now they were heading back to South Carolina . Neil confirmed that there was a proportionally large population of elderly in the area . The retirees would be naively appreciative of the household help. He begrudgingly had to admit that Millport, Arizona was the best place for them.

They’d had brownies in the house at Baltimore. Neil imagined if these creatures had been rescued from a home anything like his own that they’d be more than happy with their relocation regardless . Of course, thinking of Baltimore and the way the household servants had been treated brought a whole slew of fun dreams once Neil finally managed to slip into unconsciousness .

_“Now Junior,” Lola began, her voice a sickening mix of disappointment and_ _barely_ _contained glee_ _. “Care to explain what happened to our friend?”_

_“He’s dead.”_

_Nathaniel said, eyes boring into the wall opposite him. He held his body still, even as Lola circled him, completely ignoring the cooling corpse that lay on the dim club floor beside them. The pounding bass had appeared several minutes ago, signaling sundown and Lola’s return from the front of the establishment._

_“And why,_ _precisely_ _is that?”_

_She asked, her breath ghosting across his ear. Neil forced down a shudder, refusing to show her the weakness she was seeking._

_“I did what you asked.”_

_He replied, though he knew it was a mistake even as he said it. Lola’s chiding grin as she circled back to sit on the couch before him was that of a shark scenting prey._

_“Ah, but that isn’t what I said, Junior. I told you to punish him.”_

_Right. _

_And for a member of the Butcher’s circle,_ _simply_ _snapping a man’s neck was a mercy. It was quick and painless. Turn the man’s head back around and he could even have an open casket. Lola, one of his father’s prized lieutenants, preferred when there was nothing left to put in a casket at all._

_“Your father would be rather disappointed, don’t you think? That you still won’t follow a simple order.”_

_Nathaniel remained silent. He knew what was coming next, knew it from the moment he watched the man drop to the floor beside him. He tried to feel regret, but after so many years of the same, all he felt was numb._

_“Maybe you need another lesson.” Lola hummed thoughtfully, tapping a fingernail against her lip. “A reminder of what punishment looks like.”_

_She started with the man’s arms,_ _meticulously_ _separating skin from muscle from bone._ _And as she worked, she mimicked the cuts along Nathaniel’s body, holding him down to the floor until he no longer had the strength to struggle_ _. Bass from the club drowned out his hoarse screams._ _The stench of blood was so sickening that he didn’t know if he was breathing or drowning in it as Lola_ _slowly_ _drained his body_ _._

_She left the heart for last, her sharp teeth taking a_ _surprisingly_ _delicate bite out of the man's organ as she retrieved her knife_ _._

_“I hope this has been educational, Junior._ _Perhaps_ _one of these days it will sink in.”_

_Her words_ _were emphasized_ _with another bite of the man’s heart. Then she was leaning in - close enough that Neil could hear the sound of the blood pulsing through the vein in her neck. If he could just lift his head... Lola grinned like she knew what he was thinking. The wendigo turned to lick a line up his own throat in a mockery of his already twisted survival instincts._

_“_ _Maybe_ _next time. Goodnight my sweet prince.”_

_And then she was thrusting her blade between his fourth and fifth ribs._

Neil awoke with a start, clenching all of his muscles to keep from jack-knifing away from the car window. His heart pounded in his chest, reminding him that he was alive.

He was Neil Josten.

He hadn’t been alone with Lola for nearly a decade.

He was driving with the Foxes across the country back to their base of operations. 

Mostly importantly, he realized; he was being _watched._

After counting to ten in every language he knew, Neil turned to look at Andrew.

“That was interesting.”

The blonde said after a minute, turned sideways in his seat so that he face Neil. The car was parked and otherwise empty, the sounds of a rest-stop trickled in through the partially open window behind Andrew’s head . It smelled like he’d been smoking. Neil made no reply and Andrew took his silent glare as a cue to continue.

“Are you going to be a problem, little runaway?”

Neil had to swallow back his immediate response. He’d been a problem his whole life, since the moment of his conception. He wasn’t really sure he knew how to be anything else. He’d try, though - if it meant he might get to keep this lie.

“I’m just trying to sleep, you’re the one watching me like a creeper.”

He shot back, sounding sleepy and disgruntled. At least, he hoped that was how it came off. After a nightmare like that, he highly doubted he’d be falling asleep anytime soon. From the look on Andrew’s face, it looked like he knew it too. Neil tried not to huff, the heartbeat thing was going to get really annoying really quickly if he couldn’t focus enough to control its pace.

“Call me a threat analyst, a guard dog if you really must.” Andrew said. That feral grin slunk across his face before disappearing once more as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Kevin and Coach think you’re an asset, another stray they can bring in and teach to be a good boy. I think you’ve got too many secrets for that. And I plan to dig them all out.”

“Yeah, well have fun wasting your time.” Neil replied, focusing on keeping his tone uncaring and leveling out his heart rate so that his next words rang true . “I’m broke and on my own, there’s not much more to it.”

Andrew tilted his head to the side, but it wasn’t an agreement. 

“We’ll see, rabbit, we’ll see.”

Behind him, there were footsteps outside and then the driver door jerked open, causing Neil to flinch .

“Minyard, how many damn times do I have to tell you not to smoke that shit inside my car?”

Andrew’s smile returned in full force and he exhaled through deliberately sharp teeth as Wymack glared at him, unimpressed .

“Put it out.” He ordered, no-nonsense as he got in the car, Kevin already buckling himself into the passenger seat . “And get your goddamn boots off my seat.”

Neil expected Andrew to keep ignoring the older man. But to his surprise, the blonde tossed the last vestiges of his cigarette out of the window and turned to sit properly in the seat . He left the window open even as they pulled back out onto the highway. It was murder on Neil’s eardrums, but he wasn’t going to be the only one to complain. Besides, he noticed it efficiently pulled the rest of the smoke out of the car. When he finally rolled it back up, only a vague residual smell remained. 

“Here, kid.”

Wymack’s voice startled Neil again, making him frown. He needed to work on his awareness if everything the Foxes did was going to startle him like this. Neil glanced down at the grocery bag Wymack had pulled out from near Kevin’s feet and now held open to him.

“Didn’t know what you’d want to eat, so we got a bunch of basic stuff.” 

Gingerly , Neil took the bag, careful not to touch Wymack - but also to not seem like he was avoiding doing so.

“Thanks.”

He grunted, not really sure what the show of hospitality was about, but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth either . A peek inside the bag told Neil he had no clue what about 50% of the items were, but there was a bag of trail-mix that seemed safe.

The rest of the ride was spent mostly in silence. Only the occasional conversation between Wymack and Kevin and the low drone of the radio broke through the reverie. Neil tried to nap intermittently, or at least pretend to. He’d had a lot of experience sleeping in cars, but not with strangers so close by and not after a nightmare like that. By the time they made it back to Palmetto and the Fox’s tower of apartments, Neil felt more exhausted than scared.

“Here’s a set of keys, the small one is for your room. Kevin can show you the rest tomorrow. I’d show you around, but I’ve got paperwork to log, so you’re stuck with these two.” 

Neil nodded, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat that formed at the idea of being alone with Andrew and Kevin again . Kevin was oblivious for now, but he didn’t want to test just how poor his memory was, not with Andrew seemingly intent on pulling his fake identity apart at the seams . Thankfully , before the werewolf could do more than just grin at him, Kevin motioned them toward the stairs .

“Come on.”

On the third floor, he stopped in front of a hall closet, punched in a code and then disappeared inside for half a moment, returning with a set of sheets, a pillow, and a towel .

“Laundry is shared in the basement. There are some stock items that Coach keeps around, but if you want anything nicer than this, you’ll have to go buy it yourself .”

Kevin explained without enthusiasm, handing the stack over to Neil immediately. He then led them down the hall and motioned to the door on the fourth unit.

“You’ll be sharing a suite with Matt - “

“And Seth!” Andrew added.

Kevin shot a quick glare at him but didn’t explain further.

“You’ll have your own room, but the kitchenette and bathroom are shared . Matt already knows you’re coming, so he won’t be surprised to find you here. There’s larger living, rec, and kitchen space on the first floor.”

He gestured to the door, indicating Neil open it with his key. Once the door was open, he continued. “Set your alarm tomorrow for seven, I want to show you around before the others come in and get in the way.”

It was good to know that, at least, Kevin’s obsession with order hadn’t changed over the years. He half wondered how the fae could stand being with the Foxes who, from what Neil had heard, were far from orderly. Currently though, he had more pressing matters. 

“I don’t have an alarm.”

“Now you do.”

Kevin plunked something else on Neil’s linens. It was just outdated enough that at first, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. Once the object registered in his mind, however , Neil took a step backwards, holding the stack of things away from his body like Kevin had doused it in holy water, not just added a flip phone to the top .

“Why would you give me that?”

He asked, trying to make the question seem like it was about an act of unnecessary generosity - not revulsion to the object itself . His mind swam trying to remember the last time he needed to use one - let alone wanted to. When they’d been on the run, his mother had been the one contacting outsiders, and once she was gone, well, there was no one left to call anyway .

“Because you didn’t have one.”

Kevin cut through the racing in his head with a simple phrase, said matter of factly , but with just enough edge to let Neil know he was re-thinking Neil’s intelligence . Nevertheless , it pulled Neil back to the present and he forced himself to focus on something other than the fact that he’d be expected to use the phone .

“How did you know -” He looked at Andrew and thought better of the question. It was as good as an admission that he'd gone through Neil's stuff while he slept. “Nevermind.”

Kevin nodded once.

“Good. The numbers of everyone in the team are already programmed in. Make sure you set that alarm. I don’t have time to wait around on you.”

And with that, Kevin headed off down the hall, presumably to his own room. Andrew, however stayed. He tilted his head ever so slightly and pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on during the exchange with Kevin. Neil felt acutely like he was being put under a microscope. 

“I guess I have you to thank for this, then?” 

He said just to break the silence, hoping his annoyance would cover up whatever thing had caught Andrew’s interest this time . Neil knew he was better at starting fights than ending them, but sometimes distractions came at a price and losing was one he was more than used to paying .

Andrew didn’t take the bait, though he did graciously change the subject to something other than Neil’s strange reaction to the phone .

“Don’t thank me yet. You have a week to get comfortable with the others, then we’re going out on Friday. You’re coming with us.”

“I assume asking to meet you there is out of the question?” 

Andrew snorted like he thought Neil was making a joke - or, more likely, like he knew what Neil really wanted - which was to skip the ordeal altogether . For a moment Neil wondered what doubts Andrew had towards him. They couldn’t be anywhere near reality. If Andrew suspected the truth, Neil knew he wouldn’t be anywhere near Fox Tower - assuming Andrew let him live at all.

Before he could pry, Andrew vanished down the hall. A few moments later, a text came in to his new phone, startling several years off of Neil’s life expectancy. He glared down at the message where Andrew’s name was listed as the sender.  


_9:00pm_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Unnamed character death & referenced dismemberment, cannibalism? (Lola is a wendigo), torture, nightmares, basically violence in line with Baltimore - if those make you uncomfortable, skip the section in italics


	4. Chapter 4

True to Andrew’s word, there was a knock on Neil’s door five-minutes to 9:00 Friday night. Neil was rather startled, however, to open the door to Nicky’s affable features instead of a distrusting werewolf. Before he could reset and ask why the taller man was there, Nicky had already pushed past him and made himself comfortable in Neil’s new space.

"No Matt?"

Nicky asked, peering around for the half-giant. Neil shook his head and closed the suite door with a sigh.

"He's having a movie night with the girls."

"That's a shame."

A rustling sound caught Neil’s attention. He zeroed in on the source, brow furrowing as he looked down at the bag in Nicky’s hands and then back up at his face.

“What is that?”

“Oh this?”

Nicky lifted the bag up, extending it out towards Neil. Thankfully his question was rhetorical and he continued before Neil’s instinct to respond with extreme sarcasm could kick in.

“It’s clothes. For you. Andrew said you probably wouldn’t dress correctly. I tried to stand up for you, but I gotta agree in this case. I offered to pick something out for you, but he already had these.”

Neil’s expression flattened and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Before he could tell the taller man that he could dress himself just fine, he felt Nicky’s gaze wash over him. Neil knew that Nicky was part incubus. He’d verbosely explained his mother's heritage when Neil pointed out that he looked nothing like his cousins. But that didn’t mean Neil was willing to excuse any accidental use of Nicky’s allure on him.

“Whatever.”

He said brusquely, taking the bag from Nicky quickly enough to startle him out of staring at Neil. He seemed sheepish. Neil was willing to bet that was because he’d been caught - not because he felt bad for trying to imagine what Neil might look like in whatever outfit he had wanted to buy. If it was anything like the tight ensemble Nicky was currently sporting, Neil was happier not knowing.

Thankfully, Andrew seemed much less intent on baring Neil to the world. The clothes were tighter than anything Neil would have picked out for himself. But they covered all his scars and seemed durable enough to last through whatever the hell Andrew might try to put him through that night. He changed as quickly as he could and made his way back out to where Nicky now lounged sideways across his one chair.

“Ooh, very nice!” He said upon looking up.

This time when his gaze slid up Neil’s form, the appreciation was all human. Neil didn’t exactly enjoy the attention, but he figured he’d better get used to it if he wanted to survive being around Nicky. He did, however, dodge the incubi’s attempt to ruffle his hair.

“It’s already 9:02, let’s go.”

“Oh! Right! Andrew and the others are down at the car. I hope you don’t mind sitting in the middle, Kevin’s a bit of a queen about sitting shotgun and Andrew will want to drive.”

Neil lifted an eyebrow but didn’t comment. If he had a choice about anything tonight he wouldn’t be going with them at all. He was under no illusions that his opinion on anything tonight would be taken seriously, regardless of how friendly Nicky was trying to be.

The mood down at the car much more matched how Neil thought about the excursion. Kevin was already sitting in the car, door shut and staring forward like he thought it might get the rest of them to join him quicker. Aaron, meanwhile was talking quietly to someone on the phone several feet away from the car. Andrew seemed perfectly content to ignore them both. He stood against the driver door inhaling nicotine. Judging by the embers at his feet, he’d gone through at least another two cigarettes while waiting on them.

Andrew grinned unkindly at their approach.

“At last, the lost sheep has been found!”

“I thought I was a rabbit?”

Neil shot back before Nicky could try to make platitudes for them.

“Who said anything about _you_?”

Andrew replied coolly. When he sized Neil up it felt distinctly more like a threat assessment than any of Nicky’s glances. Thankfully, Aaron, as grumpy as he ever was in Neil’s presence, chose that moment to end his phone call and stomp over.

“Finally. Can we fucking go now?”

Nicky made a sound like he was equally exasperated and wounded by Aaron’s attitude. Neil had to bite his tongue from commenting on the way Andrew’s head tilted sideways at the obvious irony. The werewolf let the smoke from his most recent drag filter out slowly through his lips as they pulled back into another grin.

“Of course, brother mine, wouldn’t want to waste anymore of our quality time together.”

Aaron’s face shuttered further, but he got into the car with no comment and minimal door slamming. When Andrew turned his false cheer on them, Nicky let out a tired sigh and motioned for Neil to crawl in before him. Nicky barely had time to pull the door shut behind him before Andrew had the ignition running and was throwing the car into reverse. Neil bit back several unkind comments on his driving by the time they’d gotten out of the parking lot alone. It didn’t seem like the roads and traffic would gentle his maneuvers. Neil resigned himself to the increasing likelihood that he’d die before they even reached their destination.

“An ice cream parlor?”

He said doubtfully, looking past Kevin’s shoulder at the bright neon proclaiming Sweeties’ ice-cream special.

“I used to wait tables here.” Nicky said brightly, as if that explained literally anything.

Still, no one else commented. So, Neil was forced to follow the other four out of the car and into what was apparently an incredibly popular diner. Things began to make sense when Andrew traded their waiter several empty cracker wrappers for packets of white powder. Neil watched him pocket them with an unimpressed look and ignored his ice cream order in favor of asking,

“How many of those are for me?”

“How many do you _want_ to be for you?” Andrew looked genuinely curious, even as Neil mulishly retorted.

“I didn’t realize I got a choice.”

“Oh rabbit,” Andrew grinned again, smaller, but no less vicious. “There’s always a choice.”

_Right. _

He could stay and endure whatever bizarre things Andrew had planned for tonight in the hopes of gaining some sort of trust and security among the Foxes. Or, he could hit the road and be on his own again. Running would probably be easier - though he’d have to double back for his things, locked away in his room at the Fox Tower. He’d been on his own for long enough to be able to survive with few problems. But what the Foxes offered was more than just survival. The hope of it was just enough to keep him here.

“So I’ve been told.”

Neil replied at length, resolved to stick things out through the night at least. He sincerely doubted Andrew could throw anything worse at him than his father or Lola had. And if he did...well, Neil was used to sticking that out too.

Andrew didn’t reply, but stole Neil’s untouched ice-cream after a moment and wolfed it down before signaling for the check. Then they were off to Eden’s - their real destination for the night.

Edens was far more what Neil had expected given the attire and general attitudes of their group. Honestly, when the bouncers outside the club gave them special access to the world of pounding bass, Neil thought they might actually be underdressed. Even Nicky’s outfit seemed plain compared to some of the ensembles they brushed past in search of a table. Once they’d spotted one, Andrew pulled Neil off to help him gather drinks.

The bartender was chatty - and clearly supernatural, but Neil had no problem handling that. He had decades of experience with Lola’s people and Roland, at least, seemed sincere in his interest. Still, it was a relief to get back to the table and only have to talk to people he already knew. Andrew had seemed surprised when Neil had told Roland that he’d drink whatever was easiest to make. He’d considered asking for a coke. But there didn’t seem to be much of a point - not when he assumed Andrew would spike it anyway.

“Maybe you’re not as dumb as you look.”

He said after Neil eyed the drink passed out to him.

Neil glanced back at him briefly, a challenge in his eyes. “Maybe I’m dumber.”

Then he downed the shot anyway. The bite of alcohol was familiar, but it was tainted by a sticky sweet that had to have been cracker dust. Nicky had explained the powdered drug on the trip from Sweeties to Edens. He winced at the combination and set his glass back down with everyone else. The others then set on the drinks at their own pace while Neil refrained, turning back to Andrew instead.

“So what’s the plan here? Do you get all Wymack’s recruits fucked up and interrogate them? I can’t imagine he’d be very happy about that.”

“Oh, he’s not.” Andrew threw back another shot. “But that doesn’t matter. You weren’t Wymack’s recruit anyway.”

Neil could feel the alcohol and dust starting to make his thoughts fuzzy, working quickly on his empty stomach. It was odd. In the past, intoxication usually crept up on him. Even large amounts of alcohol or drugs worked slowly against his father’s physiology. Then again, it had been nearly seven years since he’d had a drop of blood. Maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised. He doubted Andrew was playing nice anyway. Neil was willing to bet that his shot had twice the dust as anyone else’s.

Still, it took him a moment to put Andrew’s words together with his memory of their first meeting. It was long enough for Aaron and Nicky to vacate the table and head for the dance floor.

“I’m Kevin’s.”

He said finally, causing Andrew to tip his empty shot glass at him in congratulations. The half-fae in question ignored them in favor of several shots of vodka before he also left the table.

“And I don’t trust you.” The werewolf stated. “So here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to tell me exactly who it is you are and what you’re running from. If I don’t like the answer, you’ll keep taking shots until I do.”

Neil narrowed his eyes at the werewolf.

“And if I decide _I_ don’t like that?”

“I know how to sniff out a lie, and you’re one from head to toe. Give me something real, or I won’t let you stay.”

“I could make a scene.” Neil threatened. “It’d be easier to just mind your own damn business.”

Andrew shrugged “This a mostly supernatural club. The number of people wanting a piece of you is significantly higher than the number who would consider helping you.”

Neil felt a growl of displeasure in his throat. He dug through the haze for a low blow.

“Yet you let Aaron wander around?”

Despite Aaron’s humanity and his apparent affinity solely for healing magiks, Andrew snorted. He dismissed the thought with a wave.

“They all know Aaron’s mine. No one would be caught dead trying something with him - a fact which he bemoans to me all the damn time.”

“And Kevin?”

“Despite what he thinks, I’m not actually his babysitter.” Andrew took two shots off the tray, along with two packets from his pocket. Instead of distributing the dust evenly, he dumped both into one of the glasses and slid it closer to Neil. “I’m not yours either. This is me asking nicely, Neil. You won’t like the alternative.”

“Yeah, well, I guess this is me saying ‘fuck-off’ as nicely as possible, then.”

Neil replied, taking the shot Andrew meant for himself and downing it. He tossed back the one meant for him too. Now that he knew what to expect, the sweetness wasn’t quite as horrible. And he managed to keep a straight face before standing up and turning into the crowd.

Slipping in among the other dancers was easier than breathing. Neil knew he was putting a target on his back. But if Andrew’s sway over Aaron was as strong as he claimed, then Neil doubted anyone would press their luck with someone even tangentially related. Anyway, this was hardly his first time in a club surrounded by dangerous people. At least this time he was fairly confident no one would try to kill him outright.

Andrew was either watching or had given his instructions to keep him intoxicated and within reach all night. Neil only had a few minutes until Nicky found him in the crowd, with a drink in his hand. He tossed the drink back himself, but then plastered himself against Neil, forcing a kiss. It was just another thing he was more than familiar with - though Lola rarely tried to use the motion to force anything as sweet as drugs into his mouth. And unlike the times with Lola, cutting the kiss off by biting the other person’s lip wasn’t likely to get him maimed.

“Fuck!”

Nicky pulled away with a shouted curse. He gave away his cousin’s position with a hasty look over his left shoulder, but Neil ignored him. He could already feel the drugs running their course.

“It’s a game, Neil.”

Nicky shouted over the music, looking like he was trying to help Neil rather than aide in drugging him.

“Give him what he wants and he’ll get off your back.”

“Fuck you!” Neil responded with a shove, causing Nicky to shake his head and leave him to the crowd. Neil imagined the pained expression on his face was due to his now bloody lip rather than actual concern.

At this point, he knew, it would just be better to pretend to overload himself than try and get sober. Andrew could try and get information out of him, but intoxicated Neil was just as good at bullshitting as sober Neil. Nicky said this was a game, and Neil was more than willing to play if it meant keeping his shot with the Foxes. The more alcohol and dust Andrew tried to push on him, the less room he had to complain about incoherent answers.

Andrew had claimed that he could smell lies. But if lies had a scent, then Neil would have died at Lola's hand decades ago. His only tip was Neil's pulse. Controlling his racing heartbeat was easier than breathing if he put a little effort into it. Neil’s father had used him as a spy for years after sending him through rigorous training. By the time Lola’s club gained enough success to use as a hunting ground, Neil knew exactly how to gain and lose attention in a crowd like this. His father had trained him to be a weapon and his mother had trained him how to be a human.

Winning this game was just a matter of being both.

So he accepted the drinks. He danced with Nicky and whoever the incubus deemed safe enough to push him on. He told Aaron to fuck off but didn’t let the drink the blonde pressed to his chest fall to the floor. He found Andrew standing at the railing that ringed the dancefloor and made heavy-lidded eye contact as he danced. He tried to pay someone $100 to knock him out. He was less than impressed when the bussboy hastily turned him down with a fearful glance towards the railing Andrew no longer occupied. Andrew was far from pleased when he returned.

At one point, he full-on shoved Neil out of the crowd and into the back wall of the club. Or had Neil fallen and Andrew just happened to find him there? It was fuzzy. He didn't think he could stand, so he settled for glaring up at the two Andrews that swam in his vision.

"So ungrateful." Andrew mocked. "Drinks are expensive, you know."

"I hate you." Neil reminded him.

"Get in line." Andrew waved a hand to show how unimpressed he was. "You're hardly the first person to want to kill me. Would you do it yourself or use all that money to hire it out?"

"Fuck you."

"Mmm, no thanks. I do wonder how a mess like you comes into a fortune like that, though."

Neil's mouth went dry in a way he was certain had nothing to do with the drugs.

"I found it on the sidewalk."

"Really," Andrew drawled. "Is that why you won't spend it, or do you just like looking like a homeless person? The team is split, you know. Most of them think you're trailer trash like Dan. Renee knows better. So do I. I think you're something a little more like us."

"Mind your own business."

"Oh!" Andrew leaned forward, his smile sharp and fake. "But tonight is mind Neil's business night. Haven't you heard?"

He straightened and looked condescendingly down at Neil. "You take a minute to think it over. Think how badly you want to try my patience right now. I'll be back."

Andrew's displeasure only grew when his questions over the next half-hour got a mix of “fuck you”s and completely unhelpful responses. If he had been sober, Neil would have applauded himself for his performance. But mostly he spent the time between Andrew's questions and threats trying not to puke.

In the car on the way home, Neil contemplated making himself puke on the cousins. In the end, though, he wasn’t quite ready to relive the sensation of falling out of a moving car. So he slumped in his seat as much as possible and tried to get a jumpstart on the killer hangover he was undoubtedly going to face in the morning.

He wasn’t precisely sure how far into the drive he succeeded in falling asleep, but evidently, he did. Neil woke up the following morning to the disorienting sensation of sharing a bed with someone else.

It wasn’t so much disorienting because he was unused to the sensation, but because he knew for a fact that his mother was dead. And if it had been any of his father’s people, he’d have far more than just a headache and dizziness to deal with.

“Morning.”

The person behind him mumbled, bringing everything into full clarity.

Neil slammed his head back into Nicky’s so quickly the taller man didn’t have time to react. The sick crack of their head’s colliding shot black spots into Neil’s vision and did nothing to help with his already pounding headache. But it distracted Nicky enough to allow him to gain his freedom and flop down to the floor. For a moment, Neil almost felt bad for the reaction. Given the night prior, the sentiment was fleeting. Instead, he felt grim satisfaction at the way Nicky clutched his nose as he sat up.

“Ouch. Fuck! Just relax, would you?"

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

Neil warned, glaring at the incubus before he could try to use any of his allure to try and calm Neil down. Currently, it looked like he was more worried about the blood coming out of his nose. Neil vindictively hoped he’d broken it. While Nicky was distracted, he used the nightstand to untangle himself from the sheet that he’d taken with him. He’d just managed it when another voice came from the doorway.

“Oh good, he’s awake.”

Neil attempted to throw the alarm clock at Aaron. He remembered at the last second that a regular human would be far more affected by the drugs in his system and botched his aim. The clock crashed ineffectually against the frame next to the blonde. Aaron looked completely unimpressed and ignored him to talk to Nicky.

“There’s coffee downstairs.”

“Bless. Where’s Andrew?”

“Fuck if I know, probably trying to give himself cancer on the porch.”

Neil thought about informing them that as a werewolf, Andrew was more likely to die from accidentally swallowing a cigarette than from the toxins themselves. But again, he was a useless, uninformed human. Humans still got angry, though.

“One can only hope.”

He said vindictively, reminding the cousins that he was still in the room. Aaron finally seemed to take notice of the fact that neither of them were on the bed.

“Why are you? - you know what, actually, don’t tell me. There’s a trashcan next to the nightstand, try not to puke on the carpet. The bathroom’s free until Kevin wakes up.”

With that he turned around and left them. Neil eyed the carpet between him and the trashcan and thought it might actually look better with a fresh coat of vomit.

He restrained himself on the merit that Aaron had inadvertently told him which hangover side-effects to display. Thankfully, the pounding in his head compounded with an effort to stand up too quickly brought bile and whatever else was still in his stomach up quite nicely. Nicky looked like he wanted to offer comfort when Neil resurfaced from the trashcan, but kept silent when given the finger and a glare.

“I’ll just uh. I’m gonna - coffee.”

Neil wondered offhandedly after Nicky left if it to be so sentimental. He certainly hadn’t had any qualms when he was shoving his dust coated tongue down Neil’s throat the night before.

The incubus’ exit gave him time to take stock of his situation. He remembered Nicky chattering about having a house in Columbia, so that must be where they were. The location didn’t worry him nearly as much as the company, however. It didn’t take genius intuition to know that Andrew hadn’t gotten what he wanted the night prior. Normally, Neil would be more than satisfied with the results. It would be simple work to undo the screen on the window and leave this all behind forever. Despite Andrew’s promise to hunt him down, Neil had very little faith that he’d abandon Kevin long enough to actually follow through - not with how difficult to find Neil could make himself.

The main problem lay in that Neil found himself wanting to stay. A decision that had been gut wrenching and troublesome on the other side of the country now felt written in stone. He wanted to be with the Foxes, at least for a little longer - but in order to do that, he knew he had to give Andrew something.

It’s easier than he expected, coming up with a palatable lie. The trick, of course, was that none of it individually was untrue. Andrew’s trick of listening to his heartbeat would fail him without Neil having to regulate a thing. Neil splashed water on his face in the bathroom and looked at his reflection just long enough to check that his eyes and hair remained dark before heading downstairs.

“Ah, so the weasel lives.”

Andrew’s voice held the false cheer that Neil already knew to mean trouble. Idly, he thought to look up how close it was to the full moon.

“Soon you’re going to run out of vermin to associate me with.”

He shot back, passing up the coffee for a cup of water from the tap.

“Doubt it.”

Nicky looked between the two and wisely decided to take his coffee and bagel back upstairs. After Neil had emptied his glass and refilled it a second time, the shower cut on, promising some semblance of privacy. He idly wondered if Kevin was actually asleep of just using it as a convenient lie to avoid being confronted with Andrew’s tactics.

“Did I pass your fucking test?” He asked at last, tired and ready to be done with it all.

Andrew sneered at him over the rim of his mug.

“That implies that you took the test at all.”

“I tried to tell you drugging me was a bad idea.”

“And yet you kept taking what we gave you. Why is that?”

Neil shrugged.

“I never claimed to be smart.”

“Jury’s still out.” Andrew agreed. “Tell me then, why someone so hell-bent on running away would go through all of that. You could have found the door if you really tried.”

“Right.” Neil scoffed. “Like one of you wouldn’t have stopped me.”

“Believe it or not, I do know what ‘no’ means. But you never actually gave me one. Like I said, you never even _tried._”

Neil glared at him, annoyed at his actions being dissected so thoroughly. Andrew, unfortunately, didn’t seem impressed. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table between them.

“I told you last night; give me something real and maybe I’ll let you stay.”

Neil took a slow breath in through his nose, playing at hesitation and letting his annoyance seep through.

“My father worked for some sort of gang Mom didn’t ever talk about what he did, but I know he brought work home with him a lot. Whenever his co-workers or connections or whatever came by, they were always...strange. Unnerving. He got careless and I don’t think they liked that. There was a deal he was supposed to make: a trade. But my mom took the money and me and ran when things were looking bad. They didn’t like that either. When they caught up to mom and me…” Neil shuddered, not having to fake a reaction as the memory of peeling his mother’s skin from vinyl flooded his mind. “Those people, they weren’t just unnerving...they were, _unnatural._”

He looked up, expecting a blank, careless stare or a look of disbelief.

What he got instead was a dark sort of understanding reflected in Andrew’s eyes.

“So you kept running.”

He said, tone even despite the light reflecting off the gold of his irises. It was a question, an accusation and a prompt all at once.

“I kept running.” Neil confirmed, sounding too tired to elaborate. He’d gone through only two names since then, the first one only lasting a week. His mother would have been disappointed. And frankly, it had to have been sheer luck that allowed him to slip under the radar as Neil Josten for so long. But Andrew didn’t need to know that.

“While thrilling and tragic.” Andrew drawled, leaning back in his seat as he did. “None of that tells me why you are here or why I should let you continue to be. In fact, your past seems like a list of reasons to send you packing. I don’t like surprises, Neil.”

Neil felt the anger sparking in him again. Somehow he’d expected more from Andrew, like maybe he would have reacted differently from the typical bullshit. _“He’s too dangerous.”_ Rang in his head, the British accent of the elven councilman a mocking reminder of the first group he and his mother had sought asylum with. It was stupid of him to think that this time would be any different.

“I didn’t ask for this.” Neil reminded Andrew, letting his ire fill the words. “Kevin dragged me into this. I would have been perfectly happy stepping out that stupid sliding door and never looking back.”

_ “But.” _Andrew prompted. He was still leaning back in his chair, but there was a sharp glimmer of interest in his eyes. Either that or the sunlight from the window was fucking with Neil’s eyesight.

“Kevin’s running from people too. Wymack told me about the Moriyamas. He ran from them for what, the eight hours it takes to drive here, and then immediately gets a second chance at greatness? All I want is to not have to look over my shoulder every time I stop fucking moving. I’ve always been and had nothing, but maybe I could have this - at least for a little while.”

Neil realized he was breathing harshly, that his voice had gone from angry to bitter to resigned. He also realized that none of that had been a part of his rehearsed script. He cut himself off before he accidentally revealed more than just his emotions.

Andrew, for his part, looked primarily smug.

“And there it is.” He said, finally leaning forward again. He looked at Neil for a moment longer before standing. The chair screeched as it was suddenly pushed backwards by the motion. But that wasn’t as jarring as Andrew’s next words, tossed at him like some throwaway comment.

“Keep it if you can, then. We’ll see how long it’ll last.”

The blonde was out of the room before Neil could fully process what he’d said. When he did, it felt like one heavy weight had been lifted and replaced with a different, less familiar but also less damaging one. He was under no illusions that he’d be able to stay with the Foxes forever. Andrew was right when he’d called Neil a runaway and said that he was a danger to them all. Eventually, the Butcher’s people would come calling. And he’d have to lead them away.

But until then…

Until then, he was Neil Josten, a member of the Foxhole court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edens!  
TW: drug use and non/dub-con drug use, pretty in line with how they're used in the book.


	5. Chapter 5

It was surprisingly easy to get comfortable with the Foxes. Even though he refused to answer any questions about his past or family - and had to constantly remind Nicky that he didn’t swing - the Foxes accepted him with little fuss.

Well...most of them.

Neil’s first full day in Palmetto had begun with the brain numbing terror of waking up to the sight of a spectre hovering menacingly above his bed. The man glared at him like he could kill Neil on willpower alone before disappearing to the sound of Neil’s vibrating alarm with an angry huff. Neil thought that was the end of things - ghosts tended not to like him much on principle. But then he heard cabinet slamming and the sound of two people arguing from the main suite.

“Seth, dude, calm down.

Matt seemed more resigned than actually annoyed, so this couldn’t be an odd occurrence. The half-giant had been all smiles when he introduced himself late the night before, his friendliness apparently matching his size. 

The ghost - Seth, was mid-rant when Neil stepped out of his bedroom to join them until Kevin came to pick him up. A creaky floor joint alerted them to his presence. Matt shot him an apologetic smile, but Seth whirled on his with another glare.

“And to make it all worse, I get stuck with this fucking wannabe for a roommate!”

Neil hadn’t been listening to the rant before this, but so far he wasn’t impressed by the ghost’s attitude problem.

“Kevin approved him.” Matt said.

“Like that makes me feel any better.”

Seth was talking to Matt, but his baleful eyes never left Neil. The daywalker stared back impassively, but his non-reaction just seemed to egg Seth’s tirade on.

“We were a bad joke before; now we’re a practical one. A human? The rest of the underground community will be too busy laughing at us to take us seriously!”

He’d gone on for another ten minutes before exploding Matt’s eggs and vanishing off to sulk somewhere.

“Didn’t expect to see you up so early.” Matt said a few moments later, grabbing a paper towel to clean up Seth’s mess.

Neil shrugged and joined him in the kitchenette, stopping just outside of Matt’s considerable reach. “Kevin wanted to show me around without everyone hovering.”

Matt snorted. “Typical. Sometimes I think he’d rather choke than admit we’re a team.” The half-giant turned to glance at Neil as he continued righting the kitchenette. “Dan hated that your first impression of us would be the monsters. You’ll have to hang out with us when Kevin’s done with you - Let us prove we’re not all bad.”

“They’re interesting.” Neil said.

“Interesting.” Matt echoed. “That’s the tamest description of the monsters I’ve ever heard. Seriously, if they give you any trouble, let me know.”

Neil would have told Matt that wasn’t necessary, but a harsh knock on the door from Kevin interrupted him. The older, original Foxes had done just what Matt promised, though. Later that afternoon and nearly every day since, they’d picked up on all the little things that made him unique - the things that couldn’t be changed by an identity swap. In just a few months they made him feel more human than any of the six years on the run with his mother.

Even Seth, who enjoyed directing his anger at Neil, became tolerable.

Allison had shared his story while stealing Neil away from Kevin’s training to get her nails done. The police reports had said that Seth died of an overdose three years ago, the faerie explained. But the Foxes all knew the truth. Seth had been murdered.

“He hates those Moriyama bastards as much as Kevin.” She’d said, inadvertently providing Neil with an opportunity to become “informed” about the supernatural yakuza family. He probably should have felt bad for manipulating her like that, but if their roles were reversed, the fae would just consider it payment for her company. Allison was loud and demanding with self-esteem higher than her heels. But Neil understood her - just like he could understand Dan’s fierce but nurturing dryad spirit and Aaron’s bitter determination to learn healing magic.

Renee was the only unknown.

Ostensibly, she was the kindest member of the Foxes - gentle in a way that even the other two women, Dan and Allison, weren’t. But she was a phoenix. Neil hadn’t had a lot of exposure to the creatures of fire and rebirth, but from what he could tell they were generally either jaded with the world, violently reckless, burnt out from constantly trying to help, or on their first life. With the knowledge and sway she possessed, Neil highly doubted she was new. Even the name she’d chosen spoke to this not being her first time around. She appeared gentle, but certainly not jaded or burnt out. Plus, Andrew respected her and it didn’t take a genius to know that her brand of kindness held no value to him. 

Neil was sure that she noticed his attempts at avoiding her. Her black eyes just observed and moved on whenever he gravitated towards Allison’s brash loyalty or Dan’s straightforward leadership. The fact that she never commented almost made Neil feel worse for it. He wasn’t used to people letting things go.

Thankfully, he had Nicky to distract him most of the time. While he lived with Matt (and Seth) and spent some time with the girls, Neil found most of his time being taken up by Andrew’s lot. Kevin took the most time, teaching and training Neil so that he could actually help them. Andrew rarely left Kevin’s side, but didn’t speak hardly ever unless it was to contradict Kevin. Aaron pretty much liked to pretend Neil didn’t exist, which left Nicky as the only monster to really attempt to socialize with him. Neil didn’t give him a whole lot in response, but with cousins like the Minyards, any response beyond silence or violence seemed perfectly acceptable to the incubus.

It also meant that Neil ended up bearing the brunt of his complaining.

“Why again, are we traipsing through a bug-infested forest instead of partying on a Friday night?”

Neil ignored Nicky’s complaint in favor of searching for any signs of disturbed nature. It wasn’t that he liked the bugs or the humidity of the North Carolina woods any more than Nicky, but the sooner they could find Kevin’s missing kitsunes, the sooner they could go back to Fox Tower.

“You could be running through them terrified for your life.”

Renee replied, a gentle reprimand.

Thankfully, Nicky took the hint and shut up - though Neil suspected he was still thinking about the fancy night-out he’s had to cancel in order to come help them.

“Kathy said that this would be the best opportunity we’d get to find them.”

Kevin reminded them for the twentieth time. Neil considered pointing out that Kathy Ferdinand was a greedy attention-mongering black market informant who only seemed to care for herself - but the resulting argument would only slow down their search and make the half-fae mad. He didn’t want to be out here exposed like this in the first place, let alone with an angry Kevin.

As the resident “human” of the group, Neil was arguably the most useless member of this search party. Andrew should have been the most useful, but he didn’t seem to have any care for whether they found the kitsune or how long it took them to do so. Contrary to popular belief, however, Neil’s eyesight was actually decent in low-light and he had the most experience being on the run. Kevin, who had used the latter point to drag Neil along on the trip in the first place, had no right to be surprised when Neil eventually found the trail left behind by the fleeing kitsune.

“Over here.”

He caught the others’ attention, motioning to the broken bushes and disturbed leaves. The trail carried on further east into the forest.

“Good job Neil!”

Nicky praised and Neil had to sidestep and duck away from what the incubus no doubt intended to be a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Right. This way.”

Kevin said, equally as unimpressed with the find as he was intent on following the trail. Neil wrinkled his nose at the realization that he prefered Kevin’s dickish response to Nicky’s genuine one. Nevertheless, he followed after the others, though not before Andrew could catch his eye and give him that stupid two-finger salute. He thought about letting go of one of the branches they had to hold off to the side to follow the trail a hair too early and letting it slap Andrew in the face, but thought better of it. The full moon was next week, it probably wasn’t the wisest to anger the werewolf.

His thoughts were interrupted by the line of Foxes in front of him stopping suddenly. He nearly ran straight into Matt’s back, but avoided the collision by stepping off to the side.

“Shhh!”

Kevin warned from the front, clearly unhappy with the extra noise Neil’s movements made. The hissing was far louder than the shuffling of leaves beneath Neil’s feet, but for once, he kept the opinion to himself for the sake of moving closer to see what had Kevin so on-guard. When he could finally see the reason they’d halted, Neil sucked in a breath so sharply it hurt.

“Is that…?” He whispered. 

Kevin nodded.

“The kitsune. It’s stuck in some kind of trap.”

“And badly hurt.” 

Renee added from behind them. Neil had to force himself to flinch at her sudden appearance directly behind him. The apologetic glance she shot him said she knew it too. Neil reminded himself that she was a friend, not a threat, not right now. He turned back to the trapped creature.

“There’s only one though. Where’s the second?”

He reminded them. Kevin turned his head to look around like the second kitsune would just be standing nearby. It wasn’t.

“We should split up.” He decided, glancing down at Neil for a moment before continuing. “You stay with me to help get this one out of the trap, everyone else fan out and keep your eyes open.”

Neil opened his mouth to argue, but Andrew’s hand came down heavy on his shoulder. The werewolf didn’t say anything, but his gaze was clear as he joined Aaron. If anything happened to Kevin, it would be Neil he blamed. Neil stared back until Kevin snapped under his nose to get his attention.

“I’ll go first. My heritage allows me to project an aura of the forest, which should calm it. I need you to look at the trap itself and figure out how to disable it.”

Neil nodded, holding back for a moment as Kevin snuck forward. He watched as the creature’s attention snapped up, going from a hopeless struggle to instantly wary. It was either a highly suspect creature or Kevin’s “aura” was less impressive than he led on because the fox shifter looked far from calm by the time Kevin reached it. After a moment, though, he motioned Neil forward. Neil kept his steps measured and quiet so as not to spook the poor thing. 

Up close, he could smell the blood leaking from it’s numerous wounds, big and small. He swallowed dryly and forced himself to focus on the trap, not the leg it was imbedded in. He crouched down to get a better look at it, tuning out the babbling from the creature above him. It looked to be a common bear trap, probably not even hexed. The problem, of course, was that in its panic, the kitsune had continued thrashing around until the teeth tore nearly all of the muscle down to the bone. He could see stretches and fragments of white from where the trap had almost definitely broken through.

“Can you do it?”

Kevin asked from above. Neil had half a mind to tell him off for doubting his abilities, but he could see how the kitsune’s continued freak out was taking a toll on him. Neil nodded. 

“Yeah, I can do it.”

Thankfully, they’d gone over this type of trap back in Palmetto, otherwise Neil would have the uncomfortable pleasure of explaining to Kevin why he knew the best way to open one up. 

“Can you just.” He grimaced as the kitsune jerked again, nearly undoing the prep work Neil had just done. “Hold her still.”

Kevin pulled the fox into an embrace, whispering something in her ear. Luckily, Neil was ready to pry the trap open immediately, because as soon as he had her leg free, the fox shifter returned to her struggles. 

“Iya!” She half whispered, half cried. It took Neil a moment to realize her babbling was in Japanese. “Iyaiya iya, iya.”

_ No no no no no. _

_ “We’re here to help.” _ Kevin said - reminded, Neil realized as his mind recognized the phrases and slowly translated them. His japanese was rusty, but it was one of the few useful things imparted on him by the Moriyamas.

_ “No, no.” _ The kitsune said again. “Karasu. Kare wa koko ni imasu!”

_ The raven. He is here. _

All at once, the hairs on the back of Neil’s neck stood up and the blood in his veins turned to ice. No one spoke of ravens with that much fear unless they meant…

“Well, there goes my dramatic entrance.” 

Said a voice from Neil’s nightmares - Kevin’s too, judging by the way he froze in place. There was a sigh and the distinct ruffling of feathers from overhead and then something was dropping from the trees to the ground. Neil nearly fell over as he stumbled out of the way, the kitsune clinging to him and Kevin still too shocked to move of his own accord. Neil sincerely hoped that his inaction would not be indicative of how the rest of this encounter went.

Riko, on the other hand, looked like he was quite enjoying the reaction.

“Kevin!” He said with a warmth that didn’t meet his eyes. He arms outstretched like they sought an embrace, feathers still hanging from the limbs in a half-transformed show of opulence. “It’s been too long, brother.”

Despite the obvious fear at being in such close proximity with his former adoptive brother, Kevin seemed to eye the kotengu with no sign of running away. It might have been fear rooting him to the spot, but he responded to Riko’s taunt nevertheless.

“Two years.” He said. Neil would fault him for keeping track except for how the words left Kevin’s mouth sounding more like he thought two years wasn’t long enough. It was a subtle rebellion that Neil appreciated.

The subtlety was lost on Riko, however.

“Two years, three weeks and six days.” He corrected. Neil wanted to roll his eyes at the dramatics. Riko sounded like a patronizing school teacher. Or a pet owner. The reanimated scrambling of the kitsune who’d dragged him to the ground with her, however, demanded more immediate attention. Neil had a feeling that Kathy Ferdinand’s tip had been less of a happen-stance and more of a paid-for ruse to get Kevin out here away from the protection of Wymack and the Foxhole and away from Andrew. Their wounded rescuee had far too much acute fear of Riko for this to be any kind of accident. 

_ “Can you crawl?” _ He asked her, keeping Riko and Kevin in his periphery. Even with his past here to haunt him in the flesh, he was still better equipped than the kitsune to be left alone for a few moments. Neil’s japanese was rusty and he had to repeat himself before the kitsune sniffed and nodded.

_ “Good.” _ He nodded and looked her in the eyes to convey a sense of calm like he’d seen Matt and Dan do with some of their more traumatized finds.  _ “Get yourself into the bushes and wait for one of us to help you. If you hear a whistle, shapeshift and run directly North. The blondes -” _

He cut off, jerking his head to where Riko had advanced towards Kevin, saying something about how he should come home. 

_ “The blondes will help you. Go!” _

He rushed, pushing her slightly to get her moving. Kevin had taken a step back from Riko, but it wasn’t enough.

“You’re telling him to come home.” He said much louder, deliberately switching back to Engligh and putting attitude into the words to draw Riko’s attention. “But it sounds more like you just want to put him in a cage.”

“A cage?” Riko laughed and that patronizing lilt was back in his voice. “You know nothing of our relationship. Kevin and I were brothers, I wouldn’t expect a human child to understand that.”

Neil had to force himself not to laugh at the irony.

Neil Josten was quiet and grouchy - he was a human with a shady past and a vague knowledge of the underground supernatural world Riko ruled. 

But Neil Josten also had no idea just how far Riko’s reach extended.

Nathaniel, on the other hand had plenty of dirt on the disgraced Moriyama and enough cleverness to be able to pepper it while remaining an insolent, ignorant human in the kotengu’s eyes.

“I understand that brothers are supposed to support each other, that family knows when to hold on and when to let go. I also understand that Kevin’s wanted nothing to do with you in any of the time that I’ve known him. I guess that lines up, since you said you ‘were’ brothers.” He said with a look of mock pensiveness on his face. “Emphasis on the past tense.”

“Why you little -.” Riko stopped himself, noticing that he’d taken a step towards Neil - away from Kevin. He smoothed his posture out, the feathers on his glamoured wings smoothing down as well. “Two years is nothing to one of us, again, I wouldn’t expect -”

“Yes, I’m human and insignificant. I get it.” 

Neil cut him off, sounding bored despite his racing heartbeat. He ignored the sharp intake of breath from Kevin and continued. 

“But it seems like two years is more than long enough for Kevin to reinvent himself. From where I’m standing, it seems like he’s a lot better off now than he was when he was ‘home’ with you. And you look pretty childish orchestrating all of this just to try and get him to come back and be your sidekick doing...what is it again you’re supposed to be known for?”

“Neil.” Kevin hissed in warning. 

He didn’t need to, of course. Neil could see through Riko’s glamour perfectly fine and could see the way his beady eyes, once black, now glowed a foreboding red. Human Neil, wouldn’t have noticed a thing, though. He had that supposed oblivious to point to when Kevin inevitably chewed him out for his stupidity.

Or at least, that had been the plan.

But apparently, Riko’s ego was more fragile than Neil had anticipated and his need for blood stronger. Neil had no idea what a human would have seen, but he wasn’t about to ignore the shape-shifting bird demon that was suddenly launching itself at him. He threw up an arm to try and protect his face. Riko was either not expecting the resistance or too incensed to truly care because after a moment of scratching and pecking, he simply three all of his weight against Neil, forcing him to the ground. It would have been a lame bully move if Neil hadn’t forgotten one painful thing.

He’d opened up the bear trap in order to free the kitsune, but in their distraction, he’d completely forgotten to disable it. Now, he lay on the ground, metal teeth digging through the flesh of his back and side where it had snapped shut again around his torso. He stared blankly up at the black of the treetops. Pain blurred his vision as the raven sitting on his chest morphed into an incredibly smug looking bastard.

“You see, the difference between Kevin and I and rabble like you, is that we know our place.” 

He said almost conversationally. The air of his voice was directly at odds with the way he lifted his boot to press it down slowly on the top part of the bear trap, forcing the teeth further into Neil’s side until he could feel bones fracturing and something that felt like a rib punctured his lungs. He tried to tell Riko to fuck off, but only succeeded in coughing up blood on the kotengu’s shoe. For the look of disgust it earned him, Neil supposed that was almost as satisfying. As was the way Kevin finally spoke up from somewhere to his left.

“I  _ do _ know my place.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence involving a bear trap on two occasions, our favorite bird-bastard probably deserves a warning of his own too, mentions of previous death/murder


	6. Chapter 6

_ “I do know my place.” _

It was quiet, but still enough to catch Riko’s attention.

“What?”

The raven spirit sounded like he thought he’d misheard the fae. Neil’s vision blurred further as he tried to face his colleague, but he’d swear that Kevin straightened his posture to stand taller before repeating himself.

“I said, I know where I belong.”

“Yes?” Riko, the dense idiot, sounded like he was about to be handed the keys to his father’s vault. Neil wished he could properly see his reaction to Kevin’s next words.

“I’m staying with the Foxes for as long as they’ll have me.”

“You’re  _ what!? _ ” Riko squawked - honest to god  _ squawked. _ It was obviously not a thing he meant to do as he did Neil the favor of removing his boot from the trap embedded in his torso as he scrambled to right himself. When he continued, it was more of a hiss than actual words. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You think they’ll want to keep you? You’re just a pet project to them, just like all these other misfit creatures.”

And that wouldn’t do, would it? Kevin had stood up for himself to Riko for once in his miserable life. Neil couldn’t have hims backsliding. So though it probably did more physical damage than was healthy for a human, Neil mustered up the energy to cut in.

“You’re wrong.” 

He coughed again to get his airways clear. “Kevin’s progress shows that he’s going to be twice the man, twice the influence you could ever dream to be. So you can take your bullshit and you can choke on it.”

“Says the meatbag choking on his own blood.”

Riko sneered. But the fact that he’d resorted to insulting Neil’s physical helplessness told Neil that he had nothing better to say. And before he could try to do any further damage, there were sounds from the forest behind him, like people were crashing through the foliage towards them. Neil took great joy in the brief flash of fear in Riko’s eyes before he turned to Kevin.

“I hope you enjoyed the spectacle your human shield has made of you both. It looks like you’ll have to find a replacement soon.”

The rustling got louder as it came closer and Riko shifted into a full raven and took off through the trees in the opposite direction. Moments after he disappeared completely, a small bloody figure covered in leaves and holding broken branches stumbled into the small clearing.

“What the?” Kevin started. Then he seemed to come to the same understanding as Neil. It wasn’t Andrew or any of the others coming to save them. The kitsune had been listening in from her hiding place and tried to create a distraction to get Riko away from them.

“That was incredibly stu-.”

“Brave.” Neil cut in. “It was brave of you.”

Both Kevin and the kitsune turned their attention back to Neil. The ire Kevin was undoubtedly going to unleash on him for being so optimistic vanished as he took in Neil’s injuries. While Riko was still there, he’d been standing between them, probably blocking Kevin’s view of the trap. Now though, it was on display in all its hideous glory.

“Oh my gods, Neil.”

“Stop.” He choked out. “You need to make sure it’s safe. Kevin, listen.”

Neil could tell that the fae was slipping. Riko was gone, but all that meant was that there was no more reason for Kevin’s brain to fight the impending panic attack. He closed his eyes, a moment of mourning for the anonymity of Neil Josten. When he opened them again, Kevin’s hands were trembling, his face ashen, and his gaze still locked on Neil’s side.

“ _ Caoimhín _ !” He snapped. “Go get Andrew. Now.”

The addition of his true name spurred Kevin into action. Thankfully, he didn’t do much more than glance sharply up at Neil’s eyes in confusion for a moment before he was running North, the direction the twins had gone. 

That left Neil and the kitsune.

“Tetsudau?”

_ Help? _

She asked tentatively, but neil shook his head, gingerly moving his hands around to feel the base of the trap. 

_ “You’ll just hurt yourself worse.” _

There was no way to explain him surviving all of this unless he got the trap off of him. Once he did that, some concentration would allow him to send whatever blood remained in his system to repair some of the damage. Hopefully that would be enough to make his survival less suspicious to the others. The kitsune hovered as he found the screw to loosen the spring system and then wrapped his hands around the toppart of the jaw, using his weight and the teeth embedded in his back to anchor the other side. With a grunt and a grimace, he pried the top half out of his torso. 

Ignoring his earlier statement, the kitsune scrambled to unwind the spring mechanism even further until the top side of the clamp swung freely open on the hinge. Gingerly, Neil allowed her to help him sit up.

“Out?”

She asked, in English this time. Neil nodded, out of breath from the pain.

“Quickly.”

He said, wincing at how even that small movement seemed to pull at every tear from the trap. He barely felt one of her hands brace against his back, but a moment later the world whited out, narrowing down to the pain of the trap being ripped away from his flesh. Had he been in his right mind, Neil might have commented on her surprising strength, even when exhausted and injured. 

As it was, he needed all of his focus to remain upright. 

It took a moment to realize then, that the fox shifter had moved around to sit next to him, one arm supporting him and the other stretched out in front of his face. He thought he might be hallucinating in his pain, but sure enough, the kitsune pushed her arm closer to his face.

“Blood.” She said, sounding like she’d been repeating the word. 

Neil started to shake his head, but the resulting dizziness made him groan. He weakly tried to push her arm away, too tired to be alarmed at the fact that she seemed to know he wasn’t human.

“No.” She said, pulling his arm down to apply pressure along his side. “ _ Human _ die, need blood.

Neil glanced down, molasses slow. She was right. He’d lost far too much blood for a human to have survived it. 

_ “Trust.” _

She said, pushing her arm closer once more and looking him in the eyes. Finally, he nodded.

“Se- secret.” He said, trying to convey that she couldn’t tell anyone else. Again, the kitsune nodded and finally, he gave in and took what she was offering. It was simultaneously the sweetest and most vile thing. Neil practically tore her arm away from his mouth after only a few swallows. He just needed enough to heal the worst of his injuries - to make his lie of a human life more believable. He didn’t need to regain strength or remember the rush that a full meal gave him. And he certainly didn’t want to harm the kitsune. She smiled weakly at him and he licked the spot he’d bitten to get it to heal over too.

Then she was dragging him to the side slightly. He stared up at the black foliage as she rustled around next to him, doing god-knows what. He willed his bones back into their rightful places and his organs to stitch themselves back together. His vision was still blurry when the kitsune dragged him back over to the spot where he’d been bleeding out just a minute beforehand, though when she laid him back down, the ground felt soft - not as sticky as it should be.

“Secret.” The fox whispered. “Hide.”

He nodded, or at least, he thought he did. It didn’t really matter anyway because he could hear people crashing through the trees again, racing towards them. A moment later, Andrew broke through the bushes, startling the kitsune - who reverted to the scared creature they’d found before.

“What the fuck?”

That’d be Aaron, then. Neil ignored him in favor of trying to catch Kevin’s eye. Kevin would know - was bound to notice the differences at the scene. Neil already knew he’d have to explain himself to the half-fae, but if he pointed things out to the others, then it would be game over for Neil. There would be no option to run, not with Andrew already here and Neil still injured.

_ “Secret.” _

The kitsune said again. And it took Neil several moments to realize she was speaking japanese - that only Kevin would be able to understand her.

_ “Secret. Hide.” _ She said again, her voice trembled like she was pleading, but it served to kick Kevin back into motion. He wrenched his eyes up to meet Neil’s, and his expression hardened.

“Andrew, Aaron, grab Neil. Riko pushed him onto the open trap. I don’t know how much blood he’s lost.”

“All of it if we’re lucky.” Andrew chipped in, even though he was already moving in to help, smacking Aaron’s hands away. He was surprisingly careful as he picked Neil up off the ground, though the jostling still sent black spots swimming across Neil’s vision.

“That was Dan.” Aaron said some time later. Neil hadn’t heard the ping of his phone, but he wouldn’t be surprised to know he was fading in and out of consciousness now that there were no more threats to stay awake for. “They found the other kitsune.”

“We’ll meet them at the car.” 

Kevin’s voice sounded far away, like he was speaking through glass.

“Sure, and on the way, you can explain why the human is bleeding out and you seem to be perfectly unharmed after an encounter with brother dearest.”

Andrew’s voice was still close. Neil could feel the way it vibrated in his chest - the edge of anger despite his sweet air of nonchalance. Kevin’s spluttering was the last thing he remembered before he let the dark take him.

The dark.

The dark was neither a place of comfort nor fear. 

It simply  _ was _ .

His father hid in the dark, waiting with sharp knives and gleaming teeth. 

So did Lola, with a smile stretched too too wide in the starlight.

_ “The dark is useful.” _ His mother said. 

_ “Learn to blend in with the shadows and you might make it out alive.” _

The dark was lonely.

The dark was home.

The dark was temporary.

Neil opened his eyes to a blinding light. He winced against it, involuntarily pulling at all of the stitches along his back and side.

“Sorry sorry!” 

Matt’s voice range out and then the light was gone, replaced by a much softer, orange glow. It was quieter too, Neil noticed. He peeled his eyes open again and nearly balked at the sight before him. He was very clearly in a medical room. After so many years of avoiding it, he’d been brought to a damn hospital. Within an hour they’d come back with news of a non-existent medical history, with blood results that identified him as inhuman. 

The need to get up, to  _ run, _ was immediate.

“Hey! Woah, woah! Calm down.” Came Matt’s voice again, the giant coming over to gently force him back down on the bed. “We’re in the tower. You’re in one of Abby’s medical rooms.”

Neil counted to ten, breathed, then counted to ten again.

He wasn’t in a hospital.

He was with the foxes.

He was safe.

“It was probably good that you passed out - even though Aaron freaked the fuck out about it. Abby didn’t let me stick around while she stitched you up, but it looked painful as fuck, bro.”

Neil opened his mouth to say he’d had worse and then froze as Matt’s words sunk in.

“Abb-” He choked, coughing on how dry his mouth felt. Matt immediately reached for a cup on the table beside him and handed it over, setting down the TV remote he’d been holding. 

“Abby did stitches?” He asked, trying to mask the panic he felt rising in his throat once again.

Matt, the beautiful oblivious giant, nodded happily. “Yessir. Said everything went well, considering the amount of blood you’d lost - though she was pretty pissy at first, wouldn’t even let Aaron in to help her. Must have been like a motherly instinct or something.”

Neil nodded feebly. Sure,  _ motherly instinct _ . He wondered if she made that decision before or after seeing the mess of scars he kept hidden beneath his shirt. Whatever the reason, he’d have to find some way to make it up to her. It couldn’t have been easy to support his unconscious body and stitch it up. That and it’d be a good opportunity to interrogate her on what she saw.

“She had to warn Kevin away like fifteen times.” Matt’s voice brought Neil back to the present. “Dunno why, but he kept bothering her trying to see you. Riko must have really gotten to him. I don’t think I’ve seen him care that much about anything other than the next assignment since Andrew threatened to pour out all of the alcohol in the Tower.”

Neil knew the real reason, but didn’t contradict Matt. He really did feel weak from his injuries, though his pain tolerance made them more of a nuisance than anything. He’d need to talk to Kevin, sooner rather than later, and he needed to do it alone. Of course, the moment he started to think about how to request that without Matt getting suspicious, the door opened and Renee poked her head in. She looked like she was meaning to talk to Matt, but she stopped when she saw Neil’s eyes open.

“Oh good. You’re awake.” She smiled warmly and Neil tried to remind himself that she wasn’t a threat. “Dan’s going to get food, so you two want anything?”

She and Matt chatted about food for a moment, but Neil just shook his head.

“Anything is fine.”

He said, mostly hoping to get her to go away. When she finally turned to leave with a soft smile, however, he stopped her.

“Renee, wait.” Her expression was open, but he trusted her not to sugar coat the truth. “The kitsune...are, are they okay?”

She smiled again and nodded. “Yes, they will be quite alright. One only had some minor wounds and healing from old abuse. The one you found has a broken leg, but she is quite adamant that you saved her.”

“I...what?”

“You mean you don’t remember?” Matt asked with wide eyes. 

Neil latched onto that as an excuse to talk to Kevin. He shook his head.

“Not really, no. I mean, there was the trap and then… a bird shifter?”

“Riko Moriyama.” Matt said with a look of distaste. 

“The jackass that broke Kevin’s hand?”

“One and the same.”

“Kevin can probably explain better.” Renee cut in gently, no doubt trying to stop them from devolving into insults. If it was anyone other than Riko, Neil might have thought her exceedingly kind. As it was, Neil though she should have given them a few rounds free of judgment. “He’s been wanting to see you anyway.” She continued. “Wymack’s debriefing him currently, but I’ll let him know you’re awake.”

Neil nodded his thanks and then she shut the door softly behind her. Ordinarily, Neil would have loved to spend the next twenty or so minutes talking about nothing with Matt. It was surprisingly cathartic to have someone who just enjoyed being around him without demanding too much. Currently, though, every minute he wasn’t setting the record straight with Kevin grated on him. Who knew what he was telling Wymack, how much he’d told Andrew. There were several times that Neil had no idea what Matt was trying to say, too busy counting to ten in every language he knew in order to stave off a panic attack.

When the half-fae finally appeared in the door, it was obvious he’d been rushing.

“Neil, we need to-” Kevin stopped, taking in the scene that he’d interrupted. He straightened. 

“I brought Neil’s food, but Dan has yours...Sorry.” He looked at Matt. The apology tacked on like an afterthought. Neil, who normally liked to take any excuse to point out that Kevin’s manners were worse than his own, found himself looking to Matt. He didn’t want to kick the man out, per-say...but they needed the room to themselves.

Matt, thankfully, either got the hint or was even harder to offend than Neil assumed.

“No worries man, Neil’s probably tired of listening to me talk anyway.” He shot Neil a wink and patted his arm lightly in goodbye before squeezing past Kevin - who still stood in the doorway like an idiot.

“You’re awake.” He said after a moment, and all of Neil’s patience shattered.

“And you’re still standing there with the door open and my food.” He deadpanned, grateful that Matt had helped him sit up a little bit ago. It would feel ten times more ridiculous if he had to do this while lying on his side.

“Right.” Kevin nodded brusquely and stepped into the room, remembering at the last second to not slam the door behind him. “Neil, what -”

He tried to start off, his posture almost immediately shifting from businesslike to something riddled with anxiety. This was the Kevin who heard that Riko had been left in charge of Evermore, the one who had broken down in Wymack’s office.

“Food first.” Neil cut him off, reaching for the bag of whatever in Kevin’s hand. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but the facade of eating would give him time to gauge how poorly Kevin was taking this. Kevin looked like he wanted to argue, but handed the bag over after a moment. 

“You knew my name…”

“Is Andrew around?” Neil asked. He’d crafted a very particular version of himself for the werewolf and it wouldn’t do to ruin it just because Kevin forgot that his protector could hear through most walls. Kevin shook his head.

“No, he and Renee took their lunch up to the roof.” 

He paused.

Neil chewed on his bite of sandwich; swallowed.

“Tell me it’s not true. Nath-”

“ _ Don’t call me that name. _ ” Neil cut him off again, viciously this time. “Kevin, no one can know. Do you understand?  _ No one _ .”

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Kevin’s face had gone pale. Neil entertained the thought for a moment that he’d be able to see the sweat beading on the back of the fae’s neck if he’d had a little bit of blood instead of a turkey club.

“I was never supposed to be alive.” He reminded Kevin, bland like his sandwich. Everything always seemed bland after blood. 

It was a harsh reminder, but oddly enough, the tension dissipated. Kevin closed his eyes and let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He sat rather unceremoniously on the foot of Neil’s bed.

“You were going to be number three.” He whispered, heavy with the weight of a dream that never was. Neil didn’t need him to explain. He remembered that day at Evermore. Learning and training with Riko and Kevin. They were to be Tetsuji’s heirs, the outcasts of their families carrying out the Moriyama will in the shadows of the human world. Before it was finalized, Neil’s mother had taken him along with the money meant to pay for his transfer of custody and run. 

“I meant to leave before Riko found us.” The ‘ _ before he came for you’ _ was left unspoken, but the sorrow in Kevin’s eyes meant he heard it all the same. 

“What will you do now?” He asked, then straightened. “You should go. No human would have survived last night. You’ll be just another blip.”

Neil shook his head.

“I won’t be his plaything. But I’m tired of running, too.”

“You want to stay?” Kevin sounded scandalized. Given his acute lack of courage, Neil wasn’t particularly surprised.

“At least here, I can be useful.” Neil shrugged. Again, he left unsaid all of the possibilities of what useful might entail. This time when Kevin projected his thoughts, however, there was a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

“Will you still teach me?” Neil asked, trying to keep the hope out of his own voice.

Kevin nodded staunchly, something solidifying in him at last.

“Every night.”

They were signing Neil’s death warrant over sandwiches, but rather than despair and fear, Neil thought it tasted a bit like lightning - dangerous, for sure, but bright and hopeful all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: continuing the bear trap scene, blood
> 
> Finally, some good fucking Kevin interaction


	7. Chapter 7

It was odd what one little promise could do to change how two people interacted. Neil’s lessons with Kevin were as relentless as ever - trying to absorb as much as he could about the various workings of the supernatural world as it hid inside human infrastructure or avoided it altogether. Neil hadn’t had a chance to really know how things outside of his father’s business or the Moriyama’s illegal fighting rings and black markets. It was nice to learn that their dark influence didn’t poison everything in the world. But while the lessons were persistent, Kevin seemed more forgiving. He was less likely to snap and degrade Neil - more likely to banter instead. The sudden change in mood was odd, but Neil found he much preferred it.

Andrew claimed he didn’t want to know the reason for the change, but Neil could feel his eyes following them whenever they talked about how to take advantage of a system or circumvent an unwanted consequence while helping other creatures. More than once Neil found himself wanting to just force Andrew to ask.

The werewolf claimed to be disinterested in most things. Outside of his moon-mania he was a blank slate - or so he said. The others seemed perfectly amiable to accept this, but Neil couldn’t fathom anyone caring so little about the world yet going to such extreme lengths to keep a handful of promises. It didn’t add up.

One night, after a late night study session, Neil got tired of wondering. 

He watched as Andrew split off from them, heading to the back stairwell instead of the four-person suite he shared with Kevin, Aaron and Nicky. Kevin was still talking, low-grade theorizing about the topic they’d ended the night with, but Neil’s attention was split. There was a natural lull to the conversation when they reached Kevin’s door - a lull Neil usually would be all too happy to fill. This time though, he shook his head.

“We can look into it more in the morning.”

Kevin looked like he wanted to argue, his mouth opening to do just that. But then he caught Neil’s line of vision and glanced over his shoulder to look at the stairwell door. His mouth snapped shut and he nodded once. Neil didn’t know if it was in confirmation or permission, and he didn’t really care. Just because Kevin knew who he was now didn’t mean that Neil planned on letting him dictate what Neil did outside of their work.

“Tomorrow then.” Kevin said, a strange look in his eyes.

This time it was Neil who nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed, then started walking toward the stairwell. He was just pushing the door open when he heard Kevin’s voice again, soft in the quiet hallway.

“He goes up to the roof to smoke.”

Neil looked back to see if there was anything else, as Kevin was never shy with adding his opinion on Andrew’s nicotine habit. The half-fae just met his eyes for a moment and disappeared into his own room, however. Neil ascended the stairs feeling more confused than informed.

True to Kevin’s word, Neil found the emergency exit door to the roof had been tampered with. No alarms went off when he jimmied it open. Instead, he was met with the whipping November wind and the sight of Andrew perched beside the ledge at the edge of the roof.

“Are you trying to kill yourself with the cold, the tobacco, or the fall?” Neil asked.

Andrew must’ve heard him open the door, but he didn’t acknowledge him with more than a glance until he came to stand beside him. Neil leaned back to rest his elbows against the ledge, facing the opposite direction as Andrew. The blonde flicked the ash off his cigarette at Neil’s arm.

“What will you give me in return?” He asked, seemingly apropos.

Neil, who hadn’t truly expected an answer, turned his head to look at him. “Like a favor?” He asked, wondering what exactly Andrew was playing at here. The werewolf shook his head.

“A game; a truth for a truth.”

“Oh...okay.” Neil mused for a second. “That seems fair. There are some questions I can’t answer, though.” He warned. Andrew accepted this with a nod.

“Alright, both of us can choose not to answer, but if we do, it has to be the truth.”

“Deal.” Neil agreed. “What do you want to know?”

Andrew waited several moments, smoking his cigarette down to the filter and then lighting another. Neil had to force himself to look away to prevent himself from leaning closer to the smell, his mind full of ash and whipping wind on a beach in California.

“What’s the real color of your eyes?”

The question jolted Neil from his memories. He snapped his attention back to Andrew, deliberating whether or not he should answer. There didn’t seem to be any malicious intent behind the question. Plus, he knew if he chose not to answer, Andrew would respect that.

“Blue.” He said finally. “How did you know?”

“The color had faded some after Riko McFuckface attacked you and I saw the eye drops when I went through your stuff in the car.”

Neil spared a moment to be angry once more that Andrew had violated his privacy.

“Fuck you, again, for that.” He said, though the lack of heat in his voice surprised even him. He supposed that they  _ had _ met under suspicious circumstances and Andrew was right to be wary of him. 

Once again, Andrew took the accusation with little more than a shrug. It served to remind Neil why he’d come up here in the first place.

“My turn.” He said, rather unnecessarily. “You claim to hate all of this, everything that Kevin is working towards. But you let him drag you along, and you support him without hesitation.”

“Was there a question in there?” Andrew drawled, though Neil could tell by his posture that he was still invested in the conversation.

“Why?” He asked simply. Why go to all that effort for something he claimed to hate?

“I don’t care enough about the work to hate it.” Andrew corrected. It was a start, but Neil waited for a reply to his actual question. The silence, though expectant, was oddly comfortable.

“I made Kevin a deal.” Andrew replied at length. 

To anyone else, it might have seemed like a half-assed answer. But Neil was beginning to see the pattern in Andrew’s behavior, the method where others saw madness. To Andrew it really was that simple. He’d made Kevin a promise to protect him and would do everything in his power to keep that promise - though Neil had no idea what on earth Kevin could have promised to give him in return. That was another attribute of Andrew’s, he didn’t give anything up for free. He understood that there was a cost - that the world followed the law of equivalent exchange.

"The last time we spoke like this.” Andrew said after some time with them both staring into the night. “You were afraid the Moriymas would notice you. Either you lied to me or you changed your mind. I do hope it's the latter, because I hate being lied to."

"I didn't change my mind," Neil said testily, "I didn’t have much of a choice."

"There is always a choice." Andrew reminded him, using the same tone he had at Eden’s three months ago.

"I had to do  _ something _ ." Neil defended.

"And what a thing to do! You took a swing at Riko  _ and _ stood between him and something he wanted. He's not going to take that sitting down, you know.”

The werewolf rotated his shoulders so he could look directly at Neil. “Here’s a question for you: How's that target on your back feel?"

Andrew’s tone took on an edge of mania. Neil might have been worried if he thought it was anywhere near the full-moon. As it was not, he gave Andrew a deadpan reply.

"Familiar." 

He was grumpy now that the conversation had turned to his own motives. A small part of him missed the days where no one cared why he did something, just whether or not he did it. It only took one memory of Lola’s too-wide grin to banish the feeling, though.

Andrew snorted, turning back to stare at the ground below them.

“Riko’s got more money and power than your little brain could imagine, how long after he discovers you survived do you think it will take him to know every little thing about you?”

Neil’s breath froze in his chest. He’d entertained the thought briefly when he and Kevin had hashed things out, but he wasn’t ready for this direct confrontation. Suddenly the drop to his right seemed a lot closer. 

“Shut up.” He said, forcing the words out around the bile in his throat. He turned to leave, to push away from this edge and go back downstairs where he could pretend the world wasn’t going to crash down on his head. 

Unfortunately, Andrew was faster. He grabbed Neil’s collar and refused to let go, despite his struggles.

“Hey, Neil. Neil, listen. Running won't save you this time.”

“Let go of me.” Neil snarled. Andrew continued like he hadn’t even interrupted.

“Running only works when the people don’t know how to find you. Riko knows you now, he’ll move heaven and earth to see you put in your place.”

Neil slumped in Andrew’s grip, turning around as much as it would allow. The werewolf was only saying what Neil already knew. He was a dead man, one way or another.

“What would it take to get you to stay?”

“What?” 

Neil stepped back, startled by the sudden change of pace. Andrew let him, though only by shifting his grip to cradle the back of Neil’s neck. His hand felt like an anchor, the weight a lifeline.

“Whatever you want in return for standing your ground here with us.”

“Why?”

Andrew sighed like he was talking to a particularly difficult child. 

“Riko’s reach is far, yes, but he can’t ever bring this to the main family. Kengo and Ichirou are Daitengu, the second sons are only Kotengu. Even if Riko was allowed to talk to his brother, Tetsuji would never let him. They’d be seen as even more of a disgrace. He’ll try to bully you and bring you to his level, but that’s all the more he can do without seeming weak to everyone who’s ever set foot in Evermore.”

Neil stared at him unbelievingly. Andrew met his gaze calmly.

“Until Riko has Kevin back, he’s no more than a vengeful child in the eyes of the underworld. I’ve held Kevin up until now, but you saw how much good that does if he’s willing to give in anyway.”

“He told Riko no, that night.” Neil whispered.

Andrew tilted his head consideringly. His thumb, wrapped slightly around the base of Neil’s throat, pressed on his clavicle.

“He told Riko no because you did  _ first. _ ”

“You want me be Kevin’s spine.” Neil realized. The reason finally forming in his head - Andrew’s deal finally started to make sense.

“Ideally, I want you to teach him how to have his own spine, but until then, yes. Take what he’s giving you and make it your shield.”

Neil nodded and Andrew let him go. He tossed his half-burned cigarette over the edge to sidewalk below and headed for the door. Neil’s feet felt glued to the ground, but he managed to unstick his tongue enough to call out to Andrew before the door shut behind him.

“Why?” He asked, feeling like a deer in headlights. He knew the truck was coming, but he didn’t know if he could get out of the way quickly enough. “Why do this for me?”

Andrew shook his head.

“Ask me again later.”

Neil stayed up on the roof long after the door slammed behind Andrew, until a particularly vicious gust of wind reminded him that the cold was bad for the human body.

The next month was a strange mix of studying and training with Kevin, work, hanging out with the other Foxes and nights on the roof with Andrew. For all that he’d come to Palmetto a lie, the Foxes were slowly fleshing him out, allowing Neil Josten to become authentic. Andrew had called Neil “Pinochio” once. He’d been pissed at the time, but now he felt like he could relate, at least, to the feeling of becoming a “real boy.” 

Neil listened vaguely as Wymack explained their next job. Well, “job” wasn’t quite the right word. From what he could tell after several months with the Foxes was that they very rarely ever actually got  _ paid _ for the work they did to protect and relocate supernatural creatures and definitely didn’t for all of the political damage control between different species and the human world. Every now and then, there would be a job for recovery of a lost family member - like this had started out as, but mostly they were just pissing off people like his father by making it harder to transport and acquire non-humans.

“From what we can tell, the trafficking ring has been using harpies to kidnap the girls. They started out taking humans, but have moved on to more exotic picks. The intel Allison brought us points to this warehouse being a holding center of sorts.”

It was another night job and Neil would be lying if he denied that he’d rather be working one-on-one with Kevin or trading truths with Andrew on the roof, bundled in coats and wreathed in smoke. The two men in question were occupying the other two-thirds of the couch Neil sat on. Kevin sat with his weight forward, almost leaning on his knees as he tried to take in every detail about the case. Neil could tell from his posture alone that he was planning no less than three different operations to achieve their goal. 

Andrew on the other hand…

The blonde werewolf seemed more interested in the patterns on the ceiling for how he was slouched in his seat and staring upwards. Their game of truths had slowly confirmed Neil’s suspicions that Andrew’s memory was exceptional. It didn’t matter if he was focused entirely on Wymack’s debrief. He’d remember it all perfectly anyway. There were times that Neil envied him for it - he would have done far better on his own if he hadn’t needed to keep a list of contacts, burned identities and safe/unsafe places. Rounds of their truth game had warned him that Andrew’s memory was just as much of a curse as it was a gift, however. Neil had enough nightmares without perfectly recalling every horror from his past. It was helpful for their work, though, so Neil didn’t dwell on the darker possibilities for too long.

“Remember,” Wymack said in closing. “We’re here to get the girls out. Any other creatures may or may not come willingly, but we can’t waste time fighting a losing battle. We leave at nine sharp, any of you fuckers make us late and I’m signing you up for a PR gala.”

Neil nodded. He knew all too well the corruptibility of lower creatures like harpies - who were morally grey on the best of days. His opinion probably wouldn’t be appreciated by the more optimistic of the group, however, so he kept it to himself and followed the others out of the dining/meeting room. Most of them went up to their suites to prepare for a long night. Kevin opted to stay behind with Dan and Wymack to go over the details one more time so Neil headed up to the roof.

He wasn't particularly surprised to find that Andrew had beaten him up here. It was strangely pleasant to see that he already had a cigarette ready and lit for him though. Aside from a single round in their truth game, Andrew never questioned his strange habit of smelling the cigarettes more than actually smoking them. He'd snorted disdainfully when Neil told him the scent reminded him of his mother, but thankfully didn't press. Andrew had killed his own mother, Neil didn't think there would be much sympathy from him if he shared his memory of burning and then burying Mary's body.

Tonight the smoke didn't immediately bring up the sound of flesh ripping from vinyl or the feeling of wet sand under his nails. 

"Tell me what you're thinking." He said, not wanting to analyze why the smoke he inhaled reminded him of the werewolf across from him just as much as his mother's death.

Andrew continued to stare forward across the landscape of apartments, shops and suburban neighborhoods that make up Palmetto.

"Not thinking, feeling." He replied at length. Neil, who had gotten comfortable in the silence looked over with confusion.

"The first night you came up here, you asked what I was trying to kill myself with. Here's your answer. My body runs warmer than humans and I can't get cancer."

Andrew waited with uncaring eyes while Neil put the pieces together.

"You're afraid of heights? Andrew, you can't be." The werewolf didn't respond. Neil barely stopped the hysterical laugh from bubbling up out of his chest. "What are you doing up here all the time?"

At this Andrew flicked the filter of his cigarette over the edge and watched it fall to the ground.

"I don't like repeating myself."

Neil scoffed. "There have to be easier ways to feel." 

The blonde slanted a cool look in his direction. 

"Perhaps." He turned away again, staring out into the wind. "But I'm self destructive, not suicidal."

Neil's brows furrowed. The way Andrew whispered it made it sound like he thought he was imagining things, like this was some continuation of his moon-mania nightmares.

"This isn't a hallucination." He said, turning to face the werewolf fully. Slowly, so that Andrew had time to stop him, he tugged on his sleeve and brought his hand up to rest on his chest. Despite the cold and the height and the fact that he'd touching Andrew without permission, his heart beat steadily below the werewolf's hand.

"This is a pipedream." Andrew responded at length, more of a growl than words. He fisted his hand into the front of Neil's sweatshirt and in the blink of an eye had him off balance and hanging over the edge of the roof. Below, his cigarette landed next to Andrew's. All Andrew had to do was let go and Neil would follow it to the ground. 

All Neil had to do to prevent this from happening was grab onto Andrew's wrist. He let his arms hang uselessly instead.

"I should just toss you. You're more trouble than you're worth." Andrew's eyes, normally molten gold in the pale evening light, shone dark. 

"Probably." He lifted one arm to grasp the sleeve of Andrew's coat, careful not to touch the man himself. "But I'd just drag you down with me."

Andrew's lips lifted into a sneer and then he hauled Neil back onto the gravel of the roof.

"I hate you. Every inch. 90% of the time I want to kill you."

Neil nodded. "That's okay." 

The werewolf glared at him. Slowly, though, as Neil held the weight of his ire, Andrew's expression faded. His mask was back in place, but the intensity remained in his eyes.

Neil watched as he stepped closer, eating up the distance between them. 

“Tell me no.” Andrew’s voice was harsh.

This close, Neil’s gaze dropped down to Andrew’s mouth. He looked back up, catching the flint in Andrew’s eyes. The sensible thing to do would be to back down, to step away before the warning in Andrew’s eyes turned into something they’d both regret. But Neil had never been sensible and Renee had told him once that Andrew didn’t believe in regret.

“Give me a reason to.”

The fire in Andrew’s eyes vanished, cooling to ice like hell frozen over. He stepped back out of Neil’s space.

“I’m not doing this with you right now.”

Neil watched as he turned back to the edge of the roof, already fishing out another cigarette and his lighter. It took him two tries to get it lit and half as many inhales to stub it back out and pull out another. He got three inhales into the second stick before it met the same fate. Again, Neil knew the smart thing would be to let it go.

“Why not?” He asked instead, not bothering to get any closer.

“Because you’re too stupid to tell me no.”

Neil stared at him, grateful for once that being assumed human meant he could watch surreptitiously in the dark. He’d heard pieces of Andrew’s story from the rest of the Foxes, but they all painted him as psychotic - a violent monster with no sense of restraint. The man he was looking at now was the opposite. He’d clearly wanted something, but he wasn’t willing to take it just because Neil seemed unsure. 

“The next time one of them says you’re soulless, I might have to fight them.”

His words could have been lost to the wind, for all that Andrew reacted. Then, hardly a minute later; 

“92%, going on 93.”

Neil grinned. There wasn’t anything particularly funny about being wanted dead. But while the threat was familiar, it felt different coming from a man that he’d only seen protect. 

“Don’t stay up here too late.” He said, turning for the stairs. “Kevin doesn’t need another reason to bitch at us in the car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: reference to Mary's death and rooftop related things like shoving off the boy you won't admit you think is interesting...


	8. Chapter 8

The warehouse was a labyrinth. 

Neil should have known the moment they stepped inside that the air of oppressiveness was from more than just an enclosed space. Given the size and original layout of the large building, they’d been expecting a mostly large space or several larger secure rooms. The traffickers had instead built a complex out of shipping containers. They’d designed it well enough to not be obvious at first and by then, there wasn’t much of a chance of getting around it. The harpies would have no trouble navigating the space as the stacks of containers didn’t go all the way to the ceiling. It’d be a hell of a task for anyone to escape however - or infiltrate, in their case.

“They’ll have the girls in the middle.”

Neil said as they took stock, everyone having come to the same conclusion. 

“How do you know?” Allison asked, sounding more annoyed by their predicament than skeptical of his idea. It was a small difference, but Neil wondered at it all the same ,still unused to being trusted by others.

“It’s the farthest from any exit, the birds can fly straight there without problem and the humans would have to spend forever bumbling around in the dark to get out.”

He justified anyway, keeping his voice down in case any of the roosts were close by. He didn’t think they would be, but it was still better to be careful.

“Great.” Neil couldn’t see Aaron clearly enough to tell, but he assumed the blonde was rolling his eyes. “So all we need is to suddenly grow wings and night vision and this will be a piece of cake.”

“We knew this wouldn’t be easy going in.” Dan chided him, sending an update back to Wymack. 

“And some of us see quite well in the dark.” Matt reminded him. 

Renee hummed in agreement. “Yes, it may be best to split into two groups. Andrew, I presume you will lead one?”

The werewolf grunted in response. Neil watched as the team split itself the usual way until only he was standing in the middle.

“Neil?” Dan asked, sounding hesitantly inviting. Her offer to join them was tempting, there was less of a chance of accidentally getting maimed or into an argument with her group. But, Andrew’s group only had one member who could see truly well in the dark - with Nicky only at a level slightly better than human. Besides, Andrew had asked him to be Kevin’s spine - and Neil had silently vowed to watch Andrew’s back too.

“He’ll go with us.” Andrew decided for him. It was the decision Neil was about to make, but he glared at the werewolf anyway.

“Neil?” Dan asked again, this time to check in with him. He appreciated her concern, but it irritated him just as much as Andrew’s lack of any did. 

“I’ll be fine.” He said.

No one looked like they believed him, but they all got moving nonetheless.

“So...what’s the likelihood of one of the birds waking up and coming to tear us to pieces?” Nicky asked in a fake whisper a few minutes later. Neil bit his tongue to keep from replying. Before meeting Nicky, he thought he had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. Next to the part incubus, however, he looked like the paradigm of control.

“I’ll save them the trouble and do it myself if you don’t shut up.” Andrew growled. He was a warning and a threat wrapped in claws and bearing knives, but the longer Neil knew him the more he saw that if anyone was in control of themselves, it was Andrew. He’d done violence against Nicky before, but only if his cousin had crossed a line.

Unfortunately, at the tail end of the werewolf’s warning came a clanging sound. It sounded like it came from the other side of the warehouse, but the way it resonated bode ill for them.

“Run.” 

Kevin said just as the squawking started up.

Neil had half a moment to feel indignant that Kevin had also immediately latched onto his forearm and pulled him along as if he didn’t know how to run on his own. Then it was a flurry of pounding feet and harsh breaths as they tried to find their way closer to the center before the harpies realized there were two groups of intruders. 

Try as they might, however, there wasn’t much they could do against aerial attackers trained to find people caught in their maze. Neil had to duck and roll to the ground to avoid being clawed in the face by a harpy and it seemed the others were having a similarly fun time judging by the grunts and curses. He kicked a creature in the face the next time one dove for him, gaining enough time to scramble to a stand again. It was easier to swat at the harpies this way, and to move out of the way, but it had the unfortunate side effect of leaving his back unprotected. Even worse was the fact that the harpies knew this and kept trying to get around him. 

One had just dive bombed him and attempted to dig it’s talons into his shoulders when a blast of light from his right sent all of the flyers reeling back. Neil blinked as the darkness returned just as suddenly. Aaron was standing there looking a little ruffled and holding a glowing talisman that provided the only light in the area.

“Nice.” Neil commented. 

Aaron nodded gruffly at him and then they were moving again, trying to put some distance between them and the dazed birds. It didn’t take long before the squawking started up again, joining in with the echoes of what sounded like the other group fighting off their brethren. Neil had half a moment to wonder just how many harpies the traffickers had gotten their hands on before they were spilling into an open area. 

It was dimly lit, but any light was brilliant compared to the darkness of the maze. And in that dim brilliance it was painfully obvious that there were no humans in sight. There were signs of them, sure. Zip ties, empty bottles and bags of wonderbread littered the floor along with stained, threadbare blankets. 

“Dammit!” 

Neil heard Aaron swear, clearly coming to the same conclusion. They were too late, the girls had been moved. They’d fought their way to the center only to find the object of their mission missing and the enemy now between them and the door. Nicky gaped at the scene, distraught. Andrew barked out a laugh, harsh and cruel.

“Well isn’t this peachy?” He asked no one in particular, kicking one of the bottles.

“How could they? But they were-” Kevin didn’t seem to be taking the revelation well, that much was clear. Neil still turned to look at him when he cut his angry ramblings off to walk further into the room. “No. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Kevin.” 

Neil started, not wanting Andrew to have to be the one to bring him down from whatever rant he was building in his head. The werewolf would be significantly less gentle. They didn’t have time before the harpies inevitably found them again, not with the way Andrew was still rustling through everything like he no longer cared about how much noise he was making. 

“No, I know that they are still here!” 

Kevin turned on Neil, eyes manic and pupils wider than they should be. Neil narrowed his, ready to question Kevin’s state of mind when a sound from behind them caught both men’s attention. It was all Neil could do to shout a warning when the nearly silent sound of wings cutting through the air materialized into a winged figure, far larger than the harpies, swooping directly towards Aaron. 

Thankfully, they were not the only ones to hear it. Andrew was moving through the air to intercept the charcoal grey creature before it could do more than just graze his twin. Aaron staggered backwards as the two tumbled to the ground. Neil started forward to try and help, but the creature was quick and efficient in detangling itself from a partially transformed Andrew. It pounced away and landed on one of the piles of blankets. When it bared its face at them in a silent snarl, warning bells were going off in Neil’s head. The connection came a fraction too late, however, as Kevin beat him to it.

_ “Jean.” _

His voice was the whisper of someone who was seeing a ghost. For all either of them knew, Jean Moreau, who had also been brought to Evermore as a child, should have been dead. Jean was sold to the Moriyamas to pay off his family’s debt. Tetsuji had promised to pay his brother the owed amount in return for Jean’s servitude - servitude that included being used as a source of blood for the Butcher’s people. He’d been given to Riko and treated like garbage. For most of the years that Nathantiel had known Moreau, he’d been sullen in both demeanor and complexion. He’d also been forced into the underground fighting rings that the Moriyamas hosted for the entertainment. Neil’s father hadn’t let him stick around for the aftermath, but Kevin had shared the times where he’d had to patch Jean back together again. 

Kevin was an adopted son, but Jean was property. Jean got punished whenever Riko was displeased - with Jean, with Kevin, with his lot in life. After Riko nearly attempted to cripple Kevin, causing the half-fae to flee to Palmetto, they assumed Jean had paid for it with his life. Yet here he stood, skin ashy and discolored, wings claws and a tail sprouting from it like some grotesque guardian. 

Riko hadn’t killed him. He’d done something  _ worse. _

“You’re a -” Neil could tell Kevin didn’t want to say it either, like calling Jean a gargoyle would make it true. Gargoyles were creatures of living stone, bound to the whims of their creator. Human myths liked to say that their grotesque facial expressions were connected to their anger and fierceness. In reality, the expressions were a manifestation of the near-constant agony of being a soul indefinitely bound to an otherwise lifeless body.

He’d find it hard to deal with if he wasn’t more concerned with the fact that Andrew still hadn’t gotten up to go after Jean. 

He tore his eyes away from him and Kevin to check on the werewolf. What he saw had him sucking in a sharp breath. Andrew lay immobile and twitching where he and Jean had tangled together. Aaron had already dropped to his side and was cradling his brother’s head in his lap. The reason for his innaction and Jean’s quick escape was immediately evident in the black veins that crept out and away from the slashes across his arms and abdomen. Aaron had never been the target - not if Jean’s claws had been covered in wolfsbane. And if Aaron hadn’t been the target, then- 

“Kevin!”

Neil spun around to keep the fae from getting closer to Jean and cursed when he was rewarded with the sight of the idiot chasing after his former friend back into the maze. 

“Nicky.” Neil snapped, putting enough authority in his tone to get the incubus to stop freaking out and be useful. “Help Aaron with Andrew. The harpies won’t stay away for long. You’ve got to get him out of here.”

“What are you going to do?” Aaron asked, sounding angry and frightened all at once. It didn’t suit his voice and Neil hoped he never had to hear that combination again.

“I'm going after Kevin.” 

Neil didn’t give either of them time to object. Instead, he turned and headed after Kevin and Jean. His heart pounded in his ears and he willed it to be silent so he could focus on the task at hand. Kevin, thankfully, was making all sorts of noise as he tried to get Jean to slow down and talk to him. What the idiot neglected to think of, however, was that if Jean was here - especially now that he’d been cursed into a gargoyle, then so was Riko. 

This had never been about trafficking girls. The only person meant to be trafficked in this warehouse was Kevin. It was all a ploy to get him away from his protectors and back under Riko’s thumb - or, more likely, his boot.

Neil refused to let that happen. Not after the months they’d put into making the Foxes a recognized force. They’d spent so long working around Neil’s inevitable expiration date that Kevin had finally forgotten about the dangers to his own life. If they were in any other situation. Neil would feel proud, but as he burnt his human energy out to catch up with them all he could feel was a growing sense of dread.

Breaking through the barrier Riko had constructed - or made Jean construct as was more likely, felt like being doused in water. Neil bent over, gasping for breath on the other side. 

Riko, for his part, looked genuinely surprised to have been interrupted. Neil hadn’t thought his monologue to be all that impressive. He also didn’t have time to waste letting Riko formulate another way to get rid of him. With the others indisposed, the likelihood that both of them could escape Riko were astronomically low. Neil already had an expiration date and Kevin was always destined for greater things. 

So Neil opened up his mouth before Riko’s attention shifted back to Kevin and between heaving breaths gasped out unarguably the stupidest thing he’d ever said.

“Being raised as a second-rate spirit lord must be really, really difficult for you.” 

Neil straightened and stepped further inside the boxed-off area Jean had lured them into. He looked Riko dead in the eyes and continued without missing a beat. 

“Always a commodity, never a human being, not a single person in your family thinking you're worth a damn outside your little fabricated kingdom. Yeah, sounds rough. Kevin and I talk about your intricate and endless daddy issues all the time."

"Neil," Kevin said, low and frantic.

Neil ignored him. 

"I know it's not entirely your fault that you are mentally unbalanced and infected with these delusions of grandeur, and I know you're physically incapable of holding a decent conversation with anyone like every other normal being can, but I don't think any of us should have to put up with this much of your bullshit. Pity only gets you so many concessions, and you used yours up about six insults ago. So please, please, just shut the fuck up and leave us alone.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from above and Neil broke eye contact to find    
Jean perched atop one of the shipping containers that closed off their little area. The only exit was the one lined with salt, iron and mistletoe behind him. Neil knew it was stupid to break his attention away from Riko after insulting him like that, but it was hardly the first mistake he’d make that night and he knew it’d be far from the last. Instead he used those precious seconds to form a plan.

“Explain something to me.” Riko’s voice was eerily calm as he stepped closer to Neil. “Bear traps exert 900 pounds of pressure, enough to completely shatter bone and rip through muscle. And yet.” He stopped a few feet from Neil, closer to him than he was to Kevin. “Here you stand, still infuriatingly alive. I’d ask what kind of creature you are, but you also broke through my gargoyle’s barrier, which no supernatural can do. So I find it  _ very  _ curious to know what you think you are doing here.”

“Just trying to help a friend.” Neil said, sounding far more calm than he felt. Despite his earlier efforts, his heart beat frantically in his chest. He was sure the sound of it was giving him a headache. 

“If you think acting stupid will save either of you, you are sorely mistaken.”

Riko’s laugh was cruel and manic. 

“The amount of trouble you have already put me through has ensured pain enough for you.”

“I don’t need to save anyone.” 

Neil shot back, the corners of his lips twitching upwards at the way the rest of the warehouse seemed to have gone quiet. The others had beaten their harpies. Neil only had to buy time until they could find him and Kevin. 

“I can’t decide if your attitude or your ignorance is more infuriating.” Riko snarled at him, stepping forward to grab Neil painfully by the chin. Neil saw Kevin take an aborted step towards them, but glared him back. “You will learn your place. I will never tolerate this level of disrespect from you again, do you understand?”

Neil heard footsteps slamming behind them, the rest of the Foxes racing towards them. He spat on Riko’s face, causing him to take a step backward.

“Yeah, I understand that you’re a complete asshole.”

Riko’s expression was murderous, his glamour slipping completely for a moment as he strode forward once more, but he wasn’t quick enough. Neil used what little strength he had left to grab Kevin and throw him back towards where the others were rounding the last corner.

“I’m sorry, Kev.” He panted, stepping back over the line and into Riko’s reach. Renee’s phoenix fire lit his face but made Kevin’s indecipherable as the Foxes ran the last fifty feet towards them. Neil didn’t wince or break eye contact with the fae as Riko wrenched him back, tossing him into Jean’s waiting claws.

“Tell Andrew. Thanks for everything.”

Neil couldn’t see the horror on Kevin’s face as he figured out Neil’s plan, but it was evident enough in his voice.

“He’ll break you.”

“He wishes he knew how.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: vague references to enclosed, dark spaces; violence associated with fighting; referenced human trafficking, poisonous substances; minor body horror & referenced abuse (jean); kidnapping; the Bird Butt.
> 
> AKA, a short, but heavy chapter. Nice things? Never heard of her.


	9. Chapter 9

Neil had figured, after Jean launched them into the air and met his struggling with a quick lash of his tail, effectively concussing him, that he’d wake up in Evermore. But assuming that and actually opening his eyes to the bleak near-darkness of Tetsuji Moriyama’s court were two completely different things. 

“Take a good look at the sky.” Jean had said as he drifted out of consciousness. “You won’t be seeing it again.”

Riko liked to play at being king, but even Neil knew that his uncle wielded the real power. Tetsuji was a second son, but unlike his nephew, he’d taken his leave of the main family and built his own empire at Evermore. The massive building served as a front for all of the Moriyama dealings. Humans saw the above ground structure, a towering combat hall for humans to test their mettle against one another. Boxing, wrestling, MMA, the sport didn’t matter so much as the crowds it drew.

Belowground, however, was where the real business was conducted. The Nest was home to the largest smuggling operation on this side of the atlantic. Some deals were more mundane, servants and good luck charms, small beasts for sacrifices. Many, however, were contenders in their own court, a supernatural gladiatorial ring to match the halls above. Regardless of their purpose, however, every creature who came under Tetsuji’s roof was ruthlessly conditioned. Neil had seen it before, watched the matches won by Tetsuji’s battered champions from his father’s box while meek and silent creatures served them blood in wine glasses or directly from their bodies. One such servant had accidentally spilled a drop of blood on his father’s collar. The Butcher hadn’t even blinked before a guard was hauling the poor girl off. Neil could hear her screams as they left later that night.

That was where he was now.

Neil had never truly been free to walk the halls of Evermore on his own, but even the tenuous leash kept by his father was nothing compared to what he prepared himself to experience. The darkness was oppressive. Neil suspected that he wasn’t meant to be able to see at all. The oversight gave him the slim hope that they hadn’t figured out what or who he was. It wasn’t much, but if he could buy himself more time, then he could find a way out. 

It was a bit of a fool’s hope. People had been trying to break out of Evermore for years and so far, Neil had yet to hear of a single success. He liked to think that his time as a guest here gave him an advantage, but that was more to pass the time than to actually bolster his expectations for freedom.

He didn’t know long passed in his cell before Jean came to get him, but he’d gotten bored of pacing the small room and counting as high as he knew in every language. The gargoyle looked solemn, though for all Neil knew, it was the only facial expression he was capable of.

“You will follow me.” He said, turning and leading down the hall. Nothing good would come of it, Neil knew. But he also suspected Jean would just drag him if he refused.

The hallway was only slightly brighter than his cell, lined with blood red lights that did nothing to dispel the gloom of the pitch black walls. Neil whistled.

“Cheery place.”

Jean threw a judgemental look over his shoulder. “It was stupid of you to come.”

“Probably.” Neil agreed. 

“It’d be best if that was the last stupid decision you made.”

“Why?” Neil sneered. “Will Riko go easy on me if I’m a good boy?”

It was an unfair thing to say. Neil had never met Jean, but Kevin had told him how the Moreaus had sold their only child to Tetsuji to pay a debt and how for years he’d been treated no better than an animal. For a moment, Neil wondered if Jean had ever been forced to be a blood donor for his father’s people. 

“No.” Jean replied coolly. “But if there is one thing you need to know about the Nest is that it runs on pairs. Everyone here has a partner. You,” He looked Neil doubtfully up and down. “Are now mine. Your successes are my successes. Your failures are my failures.”

Neil almost asked who his partner was before, but the answer was painfully evident. Kevin would not have run off into the dark without protection for just anyone. 

“So does that mean Riko’s finally given up on his dream that Kevin’s coming back to him?”

This time, Jean tripped him for his insolence. Neil had to catch himself on the wal to prevent from face-planting entirely.

“Kevin is not like us; he is valuable but he is not property in the same sense. He escaped because he had family to run to.”

“Andrew?” Neil guessed.

“I said family, you hard-of-hearing imbecile,” Jean said. “His father. Your leader.”

Neil tripped again, though this time not because of Jean’s extra appendage.

“His what now?” Neil waited for Jean to laugh, anything to show he was joking. It never came. “You’re lying.”

Jean rolled his eyes. “Why else would he run to such a pitiful band of misfits?”

“There’s a letter.” He continued after a moment of Neil’s shocked silence. “Kevin kept it pressed in one of his history books when he wasn’t wasting his time running his fingers over the text. I’d show you if I thought you stood any chance of lasting more than a week here.”

“Deal.”

Neil said, a fierce determination filling him. He hadn’t particularly wanted to die, not by Riko’s hand especially. But where before he had simply wanted to ruin the kotengu’s satisfaction, now he had an actual reason to try and get out - to do more than just survive. 

Jean looked at him like he thought Neil was crazy, and perhaps he was right, but he nodded once in agreement all the same.

Eventually, they came to a stop before a heavy black door. Nothing in the Nest was labeled - at least not in any way Neil could tell, but the door seemed nicer than any of the cell doors they’d passed on the way here. Jean opened it without a word and motioned for Neil to enter. He thought about bowing mockingly as he passed, but was instantly glad he decided against it when the door shut behind Jean and Neil turned to find himself face to face with Tetsuji Moriyama.

He distantly heard the sound of a lock clicking into place behind him as the elder kotengu approached him, an ornate cane in his hand. Riko stood back where he and his uncle had been awaiting their arrival. 

“So this is the human.” He remarked, looking every bit disdainful. “Kneel.”

Neil spared a moment to kiss his safety goodbye, digging his fingernails into his palms to keep from trembling. 

“No.”

The kotengu’s face distorted. His glamour was better than Riko’s, but there was no denying the sharp bird-demon features that lurked beneath the surface. Neil didn't think it was his imagination that Riko took a half-step back to put more space between himself and his uncle. He knew it was exceedingly unwise to challenge a man like Tetsuji, but he had no choice. He refused to step in line.

"You will kneel," Tetsuji said. 

Neil had a feeling he was going to regret this for the rest of his very short life, but he smiled and said, "Make me." 

He saw the cane come up, but it was too fast for him to dodge. It caught him in the face across his cheek and the side of his mouth. Neil stumbled under the force of the blow and crashed into the wall. There might have been another order, but Neil couldn’t hear it over the roaring in his head, the wave of burning numbness that splintered across his skull. He couldn’t even stop to wonder if he’d bitten clean through his tongue. Tetsuji’s cane came at him again, and again, and again. His ribs, his shoulder, his legs. Neil curled up in a ball to try and protect himself, but it was no use.

Tetsuji didn't stop beating him until he finally passed out.

When he came to again, Neil half wished he hadn’t. Everything throbbed, so much that he felt like one massive bruise, pulsing in time with his weary heart. To make matters worse, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Riko’s grinning face.

Riko sat sideways on the mattress beside Neil. He looked at Neil like he was imagining skinning Neil alive and feeding Neil the bloody scraps. His expression said he was getting off on the fantasy. Neil didn't flinch when Riko put the tip of the blade to Neil's lips, but it was a near thing. Jean moved up alongside them. Where he’d been lurking before, Neil could only guess, but he didn't dare take his eyes off Riko to look at him.

"I am going to love hurting you," Riko said, "like I loved hurting Kevin." 

"You are one seriously fucked-up individual," Neil said.

Riko nodded and above him, Jean was moving. Neil realized too late that the extra pain in his arms meant that Jean was moving them, though not as harshly as he could. By the time he thought to struggle, there were metal cuffs anchoring his hands above his head. Neil glared at Jean, but the gargoyle just looked resigned as he moved to hold down Neil’s legs.

“That’s better.” Riko crooned, bringing all of Neil’s hatred and attention back to him. 

“Now, Neil, was it? I'm going to make this as terrible as I know how," Riko promised him. "When it's too much for you, don't hesitate to cry."

Neil would like to say that he held strong and didn’t cry, but that would be as much of a lie as saying that his skin held up admirably to Riko’s claws and knives. Every time he thought he’d maxed out on pain, there was another cut, another sting, another layer of agony. Thankfully, the tears that slipped involuntarily down his cheeks fell only to the bed below rather than mixing with the blood from his cuts to add to the burning slashes. 

He wasn’t sure how long they spent, Riko carving into his skin and Neil cursing him until all he could do was shout and then whimper in pain. He wasn’t even really sure he knew when it had ended. It must have at some point. Otherwise, how would Jean be stitching him up and forcing him into work clothes? The gargoyle couldn’t hold him down  _ and _ help him mop up the arena floor or bleach the walls free of blood and gore. Time was an illusion, an endless cycle of pain and menial chores and occasional sparring matches with Jean that almost always ended in more pain when Riko found his performance lacking, or simply got bored of watching them. 

Riko wasn’t the only tengu Neil saw and he wasn’t even sure if he was the worst. The other bird demons seemed just as mean-spirited, but they feared Riko and the Master too much to do more than mildly harass Neil and Jean. Neil halfheartedly wondered if they went out of their way to create accidents that made his life harder or if they truly were just that callous and careless, but they seemed to breed accidents and had no sense of personal space. Jean, they at least had some degree of fear for - Neil had seen him body check one of the tengu into a wall so hard it dislocated both of the creature’s shoulders. But Neil was lucky to come out of an encounter with them with only a mess to clean or an injury - most times he had both.

His sparring practices with Jean, though ostensibly just another way in which to beat him up, were the highlight of Neil’s day. He wouldn’t ever say it was a fair fight, and Jean certainly didn’t hold back, but it felt constructive. If he wasn’t also spending hours every night getting torn apart by Riko, Neil might say that he was even improving as time went on. Even Jean had implied he’d lasted longer than expected when he’d begrudgingly shown Neil to Kevin’s old room and let him tuck Kayleigh’s letter into his shirt.

Still, he didn’t expect it when Jean announced that they’d actually be fighting in the arena.

“What?”

Jean didn’t repeat himself, instead shoving a new pair of sweats and a long sleeve shirt at him. 

“You didn’t think that we were sparring for fun, did you?”

“So like, we’ll be fighting each other?” He tried again. 

Jean sighed.

“Sometimes they like to throw pairs into the arena, as an example for the others.” 

That it would be a fight to the death, Neil didn’t need explained. He’d seen others training around them, seen the brutality beaten into them, the mercy beaten out.

“It’s not the first time he’s done it to me.” Jean said. “I meant it when I said I was your only ally. The others hate me because I am Riko’s and that means only he can touch me. They want us to fail. I will not let you jeopardize my place here.”

“You’re all insane.” Neil said, though he got dressed in the clothes anyway.

“Says the human who joined a group of supernatural vigilantes. Says the idiot who came here when he should have run. You are no better than the rest of us. Now come on.”

He tossed a pair of boots at Neil, waiting impatiently at the door as he put them on.

This was not the first time Neil had entered the arena. The jeering and chanting of the crowd, waiting to watch death unfold changed the atmosphere significantly, however. He steeled his nerves and followed Jean’s lead, looking only at what was in front of them as they were led out of the tunnel and shoved into the blinding spotlights. 

“They’re expecting a lot of blood.” 

Neil glanced over at Jean, then followed his gaze down to the floor. Instead of the usual concrete, they’d overlayed two feet of sand across the entire space. It would soak up blood, as Jean had said, plus it made maneuverability that much harder. He also noticed that the walls were layered with inward-facing spikes until the chain-link viewing cage began.

“And they’ve ensured that they’ll get it.” 

He tilted his head to direct Jean’s attention to his own discovery before they were given the cue to step further into the arena. With the sand and the spikes, the size of the arena shrank considerably. If Neil thought this was going to be anything close to a fair fight, he’d guess that their opponents would also be of comparable size. In the end, he was half right. The announcers belted out their introductions before the doors on the other end opened to admit their opponents.

The first was a wyvern, a dragon-like sand creature that took up nearly a third of the space given to them and had wings should it find the conditions on the ground unfavorable. It was the second figure that had Neil’s blood freezing in his veins, though.

“Jean.” He said as the creature ambled forward on too-long limbs, scenting the air then smiling with a mouth Neil knew from experience could unhinge like a snake. “How likely is it you could take on a wyvern on your own.”

“It would be difficult.” The gargoyle paused, glancing down at him. “But not impossible. Why do you ask?”

Neil tore his gaze away from their opponents so Jean could see the grim, bone-deep fear written on his face.

“Because that’s a wendigo.” He said. “And it knows my name.”

Jean turned back to look at the creature just as the announcer said the wendigo’s name.

_ “Merde.” _

He cursed in French. Neil would feel better knowing that he and his partner were on the same page if it wasn’t such a shitty page to be on.

“These are not Tetsuji’s fighters.” Jean said.

“No they are not.” Neil confirmed.  _ “Bonne chance.”  _

He said in a nod to Jean’s native language, and then the buzzer resounded across the arena and all of Neil’s focus shifted to staying alive.

The wyvern roared at the sound and Jean leaped to meet it midair, but all of Neil’s focus was on the swaying figure across the way. He gritted his teeth as the wendigo scented the arena again, tilting his head like a pleased dog once he’d locked onto Neil’s scent. Jackson Plank had been a member of his father’s inner circle. When she wasn’t throwing herself at Nathan, Lola called him her boyfriend. He wasn’t nearly as talented at making people disappear an art form like his on-again, off-again lover, but he certainly enjoyed the messes he made. 

From the looks of things, Plank had either lost favor with Nathan or simply lost himself to the curse. With his limbs stretched and his skin rough and dark from exposure, he resembled the folk tales they used to tell in the west. Cannibals who lost their humanity and turned into demons - that was the fate of a wendigo who forgot who they were. That was what gleefully stalked towards Neil.

If time was irrelevant in the Nest, then it was a whirlwind of stop-and-go in the arena. Neil would feel satisfied that his training with Jean had paid off, but Jackson didn’t give him much time to breathe. What the wendigo had lost in humanity, he had gained in monstrosity. His arms had a longer reach, his fingernails grown out like talons. His mouth made for ripping and tearing, with enough strength to snap bones with a single bite. 

Neil tried not to scream when he demonstrated this on his forearm. Painful as the experience was, the alternative would have been worse. 

Jackson had him pinned to the sand. When he’d lunged for bite, he’d been aiming for Neil’s head. Had he not thrown his arm up as a sacrifice, the wendigo would have crunched in his skull and then taken his sweet time ripping the rest of him apart and eating him. Knowing the Moriyamas, they would have let him. 

Jackson released his limb with a squelch and a disappointed expression. He leaned forward and caressed Neil’s cheek with a dirty fingernail.

“Oh little one.” He hissed from between too-large teeth - his mouth no longer made for words. His deranged state of mind made him oddly poetic. “Does Daddy know you’re here? I hope so.” The milky whites of his eyes glowed with a wistfulness that made Neil want to vomit. He scrambled for a way out. Jean was still fighting the wyvern to his left, if he didn’t figure something out, he was going to be dinner. 

“He never did let me play with you.” The wendigo continued, clearly savoring the moment. “And I wanted to. Ooooh, did I want to.”

Neil was too distracted by the incredibly foolish plan forming in his head to really pay attention to what he was saying. It would cause him trouble in the long run, but at least there would  _ be _ a long run. 

“Hey Plank.” Neil cut in, ready to get this over with. He steeled himself. “Shut the fuck up.”

Neil hadn’t screamed when Jackson nearly tore his arm off, but the deranged man wasn’t so controlled when he returned the favor. Before he could rear too far back, Neil spat out the finger he’d bitten clean off and jabbed it into Plank’s eye. He tried not to linger on taste and focused instead on the way both the wendigo’s hand and face now spurted blood. He caught as much of it in his mouth or on his arms as he could before his adversary’s thrashing became too much.

“No. No no no no no no.”

“What’s the matter Jackson? Not a fan of tit-for-tat? An eye for an eye?” Neil could feel his father’s smile taking over as he pushed himself to stand as smoothly as he could without getting sand on his arms. He licked the trail that threatened to run down and off of his injured one. With the blood now entering his system, he barely felt the pain from it’s mangled state. He kept talking as Jackson attempted to pluck his own finger out of his eye. The longer he had to absorb the blood, the better. Wendigo blood wasn’t particularly coveted, or good tasting, for that matter; but it would give Neil the strength he needed to get out of this alive.

“You still remember my father, right Jackson?” He stepped closer, feeling his innate magic burning through the dye meant to keep his irises human. “Do you remember how he used to train me? Only an ounce of blood. And yet, I could still do _so_ much. Do you remember that, Plank?”

The wendigo hissed at him again. His frame trembled as he swiped out at Neil in a brash attempt to rebuff him. But it was easier than breathing to bat the attempts away. To call what followed a fight for Plank’s life would give him too much credit. For a moment, as he listened to the wendigo’s heart stop beating, Neil contemplated draining him. He might be able to make it out of this place if he did. But there would be side-effects. Wendigo blood in general was treated more like a drug than sustenance by his father’s race. And for Neil, being half-mortal, the hangover would be worse. 

In the end, the sound of Jean fighting solidified his decision. 

Neil spat on Plank’s corpse and jogged to assist his partner. The gargoyle had done most of the work of bringing it down already. Neil mostly served to distract it until he could finish the job. Before he could do much more than meet Jean’s eyes and give the perplexed man a nod, however, the roar of the crowd gave way to the mind-numbing agony of electricity. Neil had just enough time to find the taser wire the guards had shot him with and look at it with scorn before the ground was rising up to meeting him and his vision went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: the Nest basically, mentions of knife torture, human/creature trafficking and fights to the death, bullying by bird spirits that include but are not restricted to the Moriyamas, abuse, blood, some body horror, cannibalism-ish, did I mention blood?, electricity (tasers)
> 
> The first rule of fight club...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extra wait, there was a scene I wasn't quite happy with.  
To compensate, this chapter is almost twice as long (;;^ u^)/

Magic was a nuisance.

It hadn’t always been, but Andrew firmly believed it would be for the rest of his life. In the beginning, when it was just him and the occasional ghost, the flow of whispering voices helped him stay calm and enabled him to disassociate whenever the fathers came to his room at night. And then there was Cass and Richard Spear, who gave him a home and a room of his own and freedom to sit on the roof just outside of his window. Then there was Drake, burning eyes, harsh hands and a desire that penetrated more than just his body.

After the bite, magic was a fire burning through his veins, a manifestation of his anger with the world.

Drake had wanted a pack. His parents were still human, they wouldn’t understand - were too blind. But _ AJ _, he could be Drake’s new family. Cass was worth the pain, the false compliance, the scratches and bruises that faded by morning. Aaron was worth losing it all and gaining months of solitary, rigorous self-control training and the looks of fear and disgust from everyone around him.

Drake had wanted a puppet. Instead, he’d created another monster.

Tilda had no magic, hadn’t even really known about the supernatural world. Andrew suspected that she envied Aaron’s burgeoning abilities with plants. “I want to be a healer, someday.” His mirror image professed, whispering it into the dark of their shared room in the cramped apartment. Andrew warned Tilda what would happen if she kept abusing her son. She didn’t believe him, surprised up until the moment their car hit the concrete median. Aaron could have a future, one that Andrew vowed to protect. _ He _ didn’t believe either, up until Andrew fought against the drugs and suppressants to sign his loyalty to the Foxes – even, for most of the days after that.

Magic was a nuisance, but he’d put up with it for his family. They had blood ties, yes, but more important than that was the choices they’d made to be together. Aaron fought against the bond as much as he craved it. Nicky gave up a settled life in Germany with his love to fight alongside the twins. And Andrew, well, he didn’t do much of anything for himself anymore - didn’t see the point, but he’d put in the effort for them.

The Foxes were dysfunctional, but they rewarded loyalty with freedom and booze. They fought for what they thought was right and they refused to give up. Andrew didn’t have to like them to admire their tenacity. It was useful, if not occasionally amusing as well.

Then came Neil.

If Andrew had known the danger hiding behind those falsely dark eyes, he might have put more effort into bisecting the rabbit upon their initial meeting. As it stood, the human spat back his “Fuck you” with enough venom, despite the fear Andrew could smell pouring off of him in waves, that it sparked a glimmer of interest. Andrew hated him from that instant on.

The hate only compounded when he woke up to a pounding headache, a vague memory of being attacked on their last mission and Kevin’s morose voice telling him.

“He’s gone.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed.

“Gone as in run off, or gone as in taken?”

Kevin’s expression was more fitting of a funeral than a recovery room. “He said to tell you ‘thank you.” The half-fae’s voice broke. “For everything.”

Andrew was violently shoving out of bed and into Kevin’s space before the nausea and dizziness he knew came with aconite poisoning could catch up with him.

“What did you do? His words were measured and biting, and not just in the way that they held back the bile threatening to crawl up Andrew’s throat.

“Nothing.” Even if Andrew hadn’t been crushing his windpipe, Kevin’s response would have been a whisper. “I did nothing.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Andrew considered strangling him. It would be simple to just keep applying pressure until Kevin’s lungs ran out of air and his stupid fae brain rain out of oxygen. But coward or not, Andrew knew it wasn’t truly Kevin’s fault.

Kevin sagged to the floor.

Without anyone or anything tangible to hold him up, Andrew nearly followed him down. His adrenaline and anger had been enough to keep his vertigo at bay when they were being thrown at Kevin, but now they just aided in his listless swaying. He took two steps back until his knees buckled against the bed. He didn’t fight gravity, but instead allowed it to pull him down to the mattress with a soft thump.

He stared up at the ceiling, thoughts trying to organize themselves to the tune of Kevin’s wheezing.

“How long have I been out?” He asked, finally. _ How long had Neil been missing? _Any hope he’d had to mount a quick rescue was dashed violently against the tile floor by Kevin’s response.

“Two weeks.”

Andrew moves to strangle him again, but is stopped by the violent urge to puke. He aims for the floor on the side closest to Kevin out of sheer spite. It’s mostly bile, but Kevin still wrinkles his nose. Wisely, he doesn’t complain.

“We’ve been following every lead possible.” Kevin’s voice is strong, but Andrew can smell the fear and resignation on him. He wonders absently how long it’s been since Kevin showered. He wonders how long it’s been since _ he _ showered.

“Get out.”

“Andrew, I’m -.”

Andrew glared at him best he could. “No, I’m not doing this right now. I need a shower and a goddamn meal then you can explain to me, precisely, what the fuck happened.”

Kevin looked like he wanted to argue but, as always, clamped his mouth back shut and nodded in agreement. “Do you need?”

“Go!”

The shower was less standing and washing as it was sitting and trying not to drown. Eventually, Andrew forced himself to lean on the tile wall and clean two-weeks worth of sweat and dead skin from himself. When he stepped out he didn’t feel better, precisely, but he no longer smelled like death. It was a start.

Kevin was sitting in the kitchen waiting for him. Unfortunately, so was half of the tower. Allison and Seth were arguing on their way to the communal family room, but aside from a brief nod of acknowledgement from the fae they ignored him. 

“Andrew!” The werewolf ducked to avoid Nicky’s hug, shoving him back with a clawed hand. His cousin accepted the reminder to respect Andrew’s space, but continued babbling. “You’re up! Aaron is gonna be so pissed you woke up while he was out.”

Kevin remained silent, but pushed a plate of food at him. He must’ve been feeling really bad, as it only contained one overtly healthy item. Every contrary, Andrew ignored it to grab a pint of ice cream from the freezer. He’d eat the food in a few minutes, but first he wanted to make Kevin squirm.

“Out?” Andrew repeated. 

He sat down with his prize, propped his feet up on the table and waited for Nicky to clarify - a task the incubus was typically happy to do.

“He’s out talking to a couple of human contacts with Wymack and Dan.”

It was an unusually poignant explanation for Nicky. Andrew waited a few more seconds to see if there was anything else, but his cousin remained quiet. Nicky’s uncharacteristic silence on the matter was roubling, but it would have to wait. Andrew set the ice cream down on the table with a harsh thunk and put his feet down so he could fully face the half-fae. 

“You can give that explanation now.” He said, beginning the process of tearing the sandwich in front of him into bite-sized pieces. “Start with the part where you ran off on your own.”

The memory was hazy, filled with the agony from the wolfsbane entering his system. Andrew hadn’t actually seen Kevin leave, but he could still hear the conversation between Neil and his brother. The way Kevin stiffened told him he’d inferred correctly.

“It was. He - Jean. Jean was there.” Kevin started, like that had anything to do with abandoning his friends and protector. 

“Last I recall, you told me Jean was dead.”

“I thought he was. He. He should have been.” 

Kevin’s voice was subdued, but he sounded firm in his conviction. Nicky’s gasp, on the other hand, was loud and scandalized. Andrew turned to level a dead look at him. 

“You can stay only if you can be quiet.”

Nicky nodded emphatically, moved to pull out the chair next to Andrew, then seemed to think better of it.

“I’ll just, go wait somewhere else. It was depressing enough the first time.” Nicky said with a sigh, backing out of the room. Andrew noticed that he seemed more tired than usual and thought maybe he wasn’t the only one upset over Neil’s absence. Good.

He turned back to Kevin and motioned for him to continue. 

“So how does a deadman end up in a human trafficking warehouse.”

“Gargoyle.” Kevin said, tone correcting.

“Gesundheit.” Andrew replied, earning him a glare from Kevin. He’d heard what the man said, but the conversation was already too mopey to bear and they hadn’t even gotten started. Angry Kevin was far more interesting than mopey Kevin.

“No, I mean Jean was the gargoyle - the thing that attacked you.” Andrew remembered that much. A creature made of living stone would certainly explain why it had been so hard to get off of him. He didn’t stop Kevin again. “He - Riko turned him into one instead of killing him. He has to do whatever Riko wants. And I guess what Riko wanted was to lure me into another trap. If I had known - I.”

This time Andrew does cut him off, trapping Kevin’s injured arm against the table. He’d been looking at the scars as he talked. His long sleeves covered the ones that trailed up nearly to his elbow, but there were still plenty to look at on his hand.

“Ah, but you _ did _ know. Creature Master Kevin day knows all the little synchronicities of things. Yet you followed him anyway.”

Kevin took in a long breath, letting it out in a short, surprisingly undramatic huff.

“I thought he was dead Andrew. This was like an unbelievable hope and a nightmare all in one. I - I had to know.” He didn’t say it, but Andrew knew the end of his statement. He had to see who it was holding Jean’s leash. He had to quash the hope that maybe it would be someone other than Riko.

“A pipe dream.”

Andrew said the words before his brain caught up to his mouth. The implications of the statement - the connection to another time, another person to which it applied - burned ugly in Andrew’s chest. 

He let go of Kevin’s hand.

The half-fae kept it in place even so, finally looking Andrew in the eyes.

“There was another ring of containers, another room.” He continued. “Riko always had a thing for gloating, he liked to come up with his own ringmaster intros in the Nest. He’d thrown up a barrier behind us - none of you would have been able to get through it.”

“But Neil could.” Andrew realized. As a human, none of the usual tricks would’ve worked on him.

Kevin nodded. “He broke in and antagonized Riko, insulted his competency, his lineage. It was -.” He cut himself off with a laugh, strangled and humorless. “It would have been brilliant if it wasn’t so fucking stupid.”

That sounded par for the course of Neil’s attitude problem.

“And let me guess.” He drawled, finally picking his food back up. “The bird bastard didn’t like that.”

“No,” Kevin exhaled. “He did not.” He rubbed at his eyes. “Neil managed to push me across the barrier again before Riko or Jean could retaliate and I could hear the others coming. They just - weren’t fast enough and Neil. Neil was still inside the barrier.”

Andrew didn’t ask him to finish - didn’t need to. The story played out like a bad movie - a tragic scene where the heroes rush in too late. The damsel is not saved. The enemy flies off into the night with its prize. He halted the train of thought brutally before it could turn to what his role might be.

“So he’s at Evermore.” Andrew says finally. “You’ve all wasted weeks denying that you know exactly where he is.” 

Kevin meets his expression and balks.

“You can’t be serious. Andrew, they would kill you before you made it in the front door. It wouldn’t matter who was around to see, they have too much power to counter directly like that.”

“They run fights, don’t they? Andrew persisted. “Let’s give them one.”

“Andrew listen!” Kevin reached out to take his arm, pulling back in remembrance after only a second of contact. It was a second too much and a second not enough. Andrew let him keep the offending hand in preference of letting this rare bought of courage from Kevin play out.

“Neil’s already been with them for two weeks - on the Nest’s 16 hour schedule, that’s three weeks. If Riko hasn’t killed him already, then he’s put him into the ring. Even with Jean as his partner, that’s.” Bad. “Even if they managed to win, the lengths he’d have to go to do that - He’d.” 

Kevin shook his head, clearly trying to shake something off. Andrew narrowed his eyes, Kevin’s heart skipped a beat.

“He won’t survive the ring, Andrew. Trust me.”

Andrew stood, deadly calm. “Trust you? A man who lies to my face?”

“What?” 

Kevin looked stricken. He scrambled backwards as Andrew shoved the entire table, sliding it sideways with a screech and a thud as it collided with the doorway to the living room. He wasn’t interested in walking around, not when Kevin seemed to be putting such effort into leading him in circles.

“I am not some dumb sheep dog.” He growled, advancing on Kevin and ignoring the shouts of the others as they came to investigate.

“Andrew what?” Nicky cut himself off when Andrew grabbed Kevin by the throat and slammed him against the pantry door.

“What aren’t you telling me?” He demanded, squeezing until Kevin’s scrambling became truly frantic. He watched for a moment before allowing Kevin enough air to answer. The moment he stopped wheezing to talk, Andrew knew it would be more lies. He put one finger against Kevin’s lips. They were practically breathing the same air when he leaned in .

“Shhhh. You’ve always carried so much guilt for leaving Jean at the Nest. I’ve seen you trash your liver time and time again, but now you just want to leave your pet project there. Why?”

“Please.” Kevin said, holding onto the arm still dangling him on his tip-toes by his throat. Andrew increased the pressure, but didn’t tear Kevin’s gripp off of him.

“You know how much I hate that word.”

“Andrew, knock it off!” The others were moving the table. Andrew heard the front door open as well and someone calling out both Wymack and Renee’s names. He couldn’t have them interrupt before he got the truth out of Kevin.

Kevin nodded frantically and Andrew let him breath again.

“I promised you everything would be okay, didn’t I?” 

He heard the table slide forward more, but only soft footsteps pattered across the linoleum. They’d wisely sent Renee in. She waited just out of reach for some sort of explanation or sign, but Andrew knew she wouldn’t step in unless she actually thought he’d kill Kevin. The fae wasn’t hers to protect.

“Don’t you believe me?”

Kevin closed his eyes, an annoying habit of his whenever he was trying to collect himself. It made all the lines in his face smooth out until it looked like burnished clay. He opened his eyes again and nodded.

Andrew released him.

He stepped back and let Renee take his place with a glass of water. Kevin was still hyperventilating, but it wasn’t from fear - not anymore. Andrew ignored the angry mutterings and glances from the rest of the Foxes and took the remains of his meal to the conference room. If they wanted any answers, they could follow him there and listen to Kevin’s explanation himself.

Several minutes later, the man of the hour entered, taking the seat left vacant next to Andrew. He looked the werewolf in the eyes and received only a blank stare in response. If he was waiting on a cue to start, Andrew wasn’t going to be the one to give it. He tore another piece from his sandwich and popped it in his mouth as Kevin gathered his words.

“Neil isn’t, never was, who he told us.”

Andrew could have told them that, but he let Kevin continue.

“His real name is Nathaniel Wesninski.” 

_ “I’m named after my father.” _ Andrew blinked, the memory rising to the surface. He sat upright, remembering the distasteful way Neil had shared this particular truth - just a week before his disappearance. _ “But Abram is the name my mother gave me, the one she used on the run.” _

“Wesninski? But that means -” Dan’s face was contorted with some mix of emotions Andrew didn’t care to decipher. The others all started talking at once, each exclamation of disbelief scrambling atop the others.

“Vampires can’t have children.” 

Andrew didn’t speak loud, didn’t need to for Kevin to hear him. Somehow the sound of his voice brought the others to heel too. They didn’t like him much, but the others knew instinctively that Kevin would answer Andrew over them. 

Kevin nodded.

“They’re not supposed to be able to.” He agreed. “But it’s not unheard of. They’re called Daywalkers. There was one recorded in 1526 that -” Kevin stopped when he saw Andrew’s blank stare. He cleared his throat. “Neil’s mother was a Hatford.”

“The elf assholes in the U.K.?” Allison asked. 

Kevin nodded. “She apparently had enough magic for Neil to exist. He’s got his father’s lifespan and vampiric abilities, but he can withstand sunlight and most holy relics. His father would drag him to Evermore when he did business there.”

“How long have you known?” Andrew asked. There’s no way he’d known from the start, though Andrew was beginning to think Neil had recognized Kevin. His mind replayed the way the human - _ daywalker _, had reacted extremely poorly to Kevin’s appearance.

“Since the incident with the kitsunes.” Kevin confirmed. “Neil didn’t just fall on the trap, Riko shoved him there and then made sure it sprang closed before he left. The fox must have given him some blood to accelerate the healing because a human would have bled out by the time you reached him.”

There was something else Kevin wasn’t saying, but the look in his eyes promised that he’d tell Andrew later. 

“So this is good, right?” Nicky asked after the room experienced an introspective pause. “If Neil’s supernatural, then he can survive the Nest!”

Dan shook her head. “It’s not that simple. Evermore doesn’t host fair fights. You can bet that Riko will keep throwing worse things at him when he stands his ground.”

“That’s assuming they even give him blood.” Kevin interrupted. “He’s been living as a human for almost a decade - diet included. He needs blood to fuel any of those abilities, and you can bet that Riko won’t give it to him.”

The others grumbled at the inequity, though Andrew didn’t know why they were surprised. Their indignation almost had them missing Kevin’s next words.

“That’s not the worst, though.” He sighed and ran a hand across his face. “If Riko figures out what Neil is, then it won’t take long to figure out who he is. Neil’s not afraid of Riko, but there’s a reason he flinches anytime Coach gets mad.”

All eyes flicked over to Wymack, whose face was grim. He met Andrew’s gaze and the werewolf could tell he’d came to the same conclusion. Wymack had been on the receiving end of too many “dad” jokes and sarcastic comments not to.

“Wait, his own father?” Nicky’s voice was two pitches too high and three too loud.

“Is the leader of a supernatural crime family known for dismembering the people who cross him. It’s not really a surprise.” What was a surprise, however, was the fact that it was Aaron sharing this sentiment. Andrew turned to look at where he was leaning on the doorjamb. His animosity with Neil was no secret, yet here he was, trying to be helpful.

“Wait, the Butcher is real? I thought that was just an old story used to scare people not to go out at night.” 

For once, Andrew wasn’t the only one to sigh at his cousin’s naivety. 

“Where do you think the story came from?” Allison scolded him. “He’s not some human tyrant from a bygone war. Vampires are immortal.”

“Well fuck.” Finally, he seemed to be getting it.

“Okay, so it’s slightly worse than we thought.” Matt said placatingly. “But there has to be something we can do.”

Kevin shook his head in resignation. “The only people with enough clout to be able to get him and get out of it are his mother’s people, but Neil said they wanted nothing to do with him. And that’s even assuming we could contact them.”

Dan, Matt and Aaron all turned to look at Allison. She frowned. “Even if my parents believed whatever grovelling I’d have to do to get their help - which would be _ extensive _; they got into a fued with the elves in the 90s over some hotel chains in Bermuda.”

The room collectively sighed, out of ideas and quickly running out of hope. 

Andrew had always found hope to be a useless thing anyway. He looked at Kevin, running the information he’d just given them against the truths Neil had traded him on the roof. He goes back further. Kevin’s expression, angry and resigned at being backed into a corner, reminds him of something. 

“He has a binder.” Andrew’s voice is like a gunshot in the quiet. Everyone turns to look at him. “In his bag. I saw it when I went through his things on the way back from Millport. The papers were all a jumble of news clippings and unintelligible letters and numbers.”

The older Foxes tried to chide him for invading Neil’s space, but there was a new light in Kevin’s eyes. “Jumbled like a code?”

Andrew nodded. 

Kevin stood, the motion quick enough that he nearly toppled his chair. It quieted the others again. “Matt we need to get into your room.”

“Okay, but I’m pretty sure he put all his stuff in a safe like the week he got here.”

The Foxes all bumped and jostled their way up two flights of stairs to the room Matt, Seth and Neil shared, taking their conversation into the room with them.

“Get us in the room and we’ll take care of the safe.” Allison promised.

As it turned out, her promise was unnecessary. Matt opened the door to their suite to reveal Seth hovering over an exploded fire-safe. From the look of it, the thing had been expensive - not entirely surprising given the cash Andrew had also seen in the binder.

“What?” He said when they gawked at him. “I thought you’d appreciate the help. None of you would have figured out the password anyway.”

“If you knew the password, why didn’t you just use it?” Dan asked, clearly irked. 

Andrew ignored her to stride forward and grab the binder from within the smoking safe. The plastic edges were a bit warped, but the pages were all still intact.

“I did.” Seth shot back. “This happened after I opened the door.”

“Guess he really didn’t want anyone looking in his stuff.” Matt said, sounding impressed.

Andrew dragged Kevin back down to the conference room, the rest of them following. The Foxes were a mixture of distraught,confused and weirded out by the running history of Kevin and Riko, but Andrew threw them aside as meaningless. Kevin too, only blinked, clearly surprised to find that Neil had paid attention to him even after disappearing. The money was also interesting, but ultimately inconsequential. But then the rest of the day was spent pouring over ten pages of code. 

Night fell and letters and numbers began to swim. The Foxes began to drop off, either in their seats, or deciding to retire to their rooms. Andrew refused to give up, even after Renee gently reminded him that he’d be better equipped to go over the pages after a night of sleep. He shot her a quick glare, but her expression said she understood. Half an hour later, he tucked Kevin into the couch with one of Neil’s hideous orange blankets and went back to the room alone.

In the end, it took them nearly a week to figure it out.

Aaron and Matt had been trying to use important phrases or dates to pick letters or numbers out of a page - with Seth occasionally throwing out things he’d heard Neil say in his sleep.

“Nah, his last name has the same number of letters as his first. We’d end up with the same thing regardless. Maybe if we had a middle name or something, we could look at more options.”

“Abram.” 

Andrew probably startled several years off of their lifespans by sneaking up behind them. He’d just come back from relieving himself, one of the few things he allowed to distract him from the codes. The werewolf came up behind them, looking over his twin’s shoulder at the framework they were using. “His middle name is Abram.”

His return garnered Kevin’s attention and he came around from the other end of the table. “No, do it the other way around. Go down nine rows for his first name, then over five for his middle. You’ll run out of lines the other way.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron huffed, annoyed at his process being commandeered like this. 

“Watch.”

Kevin took the paper from him and started circling numbers, a zero then counting down corresponding to the letters of Neil’s real last name. In the end, ten digits stared back at them.

“Did we do it?” Matt whispered.

“Only one way to find out.” Aaron’s response was probably aiming for sarcastic, but Andrew recognized the note of hope that destroyed his intent.

He grabbed the paper.

“Hey!” All three of the other men chorused. 

Andrew ignored them in favor of pulling out his phone and punching the numbers. He stared at them for a moment, burning them into his memory before hitting the “call” button. The others looked like they wanted to gather around or ask him to put it on speaker, but stayed back after a particularly withering look. The phone nearly rang out then -

“How did you get this number?”

The voice on the other end was brusque and definitely British. Andrew glanced down as Kevin started writing something furiously on a piece of scrap.

“That depends,” He stalled. “Who am I talking to?”

“Listen you little shite. I don’t have time for whatever prank calling you idiot children get up to these days -”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at Kevin’s hurried scrawl - he has an uncle - then cut the british man off unceremoniously.

“Maybe you’d like to know where your nephew is, then.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Hatford, right?” Andrew didn’t wait for confirmation. “You strike me as the type to like to know where all of your little ducklings are.”

“Well you must be mistaken, because that particular duckling flew south quite a few winters ago.”

“Maybe.” Andrew agreed. “But it seems he’s been dragged back to the Nest.”

“The Nest? Are you one of Moriyama’s fucking flunkies? I swear to the gods I will find you and flay you alive. I don’t care if I start a fucking fued you little shite-”

“Good.” Andrew replied, carefully calm.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re willing to cross the bird bastards, that’s good.”

A dry, surprised chuckle. “You’re not one of his then.”

“Not likely. We’ve had a few too many disagreements for that.”

“Why are you telling me this, then?”

“Your sister’s son is either underneath Evermore or being dragged to his father’s territory. I figured you’d like to do something about that.”

“Interesting theory.”

Andrew could tell he was losing the elf. He threw out his last bargaining chip.

“Nathan killed your sister, you know. I didn’t think that elves let that sort of thing slide so easily.”

Kevin looked at him sharply, a glimmer of interest in his eyes that had nothing to do with Hatford’s conversation. Andrew wanted to shove his face away, cover that look with his hand. He’d been forced into the same room as him and Neil while he drilled their newest member on the supernatural. His eidetic memory meant he was bound to recall a few things.

“We don’t.” Hatford responded at length. “How do I know you’re telling the truth. I have no idea if you’re a reliable source.”

“I’m probably not.” Andrew conceded. “But the man who buried her is. You can ask him to verify when you pick him up. Might want to hurry, though. Rumor is, both Riko and Nathan want him dead. I’ll be in touch.”

“You little shite-”

Andrew clicked his phone shut before any more of Hatford’s expletives came across. The other three men in the room looked at him like he’d grown two more heads. He checked, just in case, but he was still definitely just a one-headed lupin creature. 

“What.”

“Did you just...hang up on a member of the British mafia?” Matt stage whispered.

_“He hung up on who!!??” _

Nicky’s screech from the door had Aaron groaning and rubbing his temples. Andrew ignored them both in favor of silently beckoning Kevin out of the room. Aaron and Matt could fill the others in when Nicky’s shrill exclamations eventually brought them all running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: references to Andrew's childhood trauma, explanation of Neil's father, choking/violence in line with Andrew immediately following the riot in canon (aka, Kevin gets choked out a few times)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Baltimore time, please be aware of trigger warnings

“You know, at first - when you just  _ wouldn’t fucking die _ , I was rather annoyed.” 

Riko’s voice penetrated the darkness. Neil didn’t know how long it had been since the fight, how long he’d been separated from Jean and thrown back into a cell. He remembered waking up initially, Jean’s grey eyes regarding him cautiously before raven guards came to rip him away. He remembered the increased torture: more cuts, waterboarding, no food or water, beatings. He remembered laughing in Riko’s face until the sounds turned to curses, to shouts, to silence.

Now, the self-righteous bastard swam before him in the low light. Depth perception in the dark was always a tricky thing, but having one eye swollen shut seemed to make it worse. Unfortunately, it did nothing to mute Riko’s gloating.

“But then you just had to go and make yourself intriguing, valuable, even.” He continued. “No one could quite figure you out. A human who could drink blood and become stronger.”

He laughed, a cruel, humorless sound.

“Daywalkers were just a legend, they all said. And yet,” The tip of Riko’s boot prodded Neil’s head, turning it against the concrete floor so he could get a better look. “Here you are: living, breathing, bleeding - but not yet given up.”

Neil would have spat on him if he had the energy. As it was, Riko got bored of looking at him and turned to pace the room like the egomaniac he was.

“The fight was quite an upset, you know.” He said it conversationally, like Neil gave a damn what the people outside the arena thought about his decision to survive. “The wendigo’s handler was especially upset to see her asset defeated while she was away on business.

“Oddly enough though, her attitude changed once we showed her the footage of the match.” 

The grin on Riko’s face as he turned back to face Neil told him that whatever the kotengu was about to say wouldn’t bode well for him. He slowly put in the effort to push himself back up to sitting against the wall.

“In fact,” Riko sounded a bit manic, “she was particularly excited once she saw  _ who _ it was that had defeated her fighter. Apparently, you’re a very highly sought after man, Nathaniel.”

What little blood was left in Neil’s veins ran cold.

“So sought after, in fact, that you’re worth more to me alive than dead.” Riko continued. “Almost triple the price if I give you to her intact.”

The door behind Riko opened and Neil tried ineffectually to scramble upright against the wall. Riko seemed to find great amusement in the way his limbs refused to cooperate. It was the fear response he’d never gotten, after all. Neil was too fixated on the figure stepping to the room to care, though.

“Oh Junior.” Lola’s voice and expression were sympathetic, “You look absolutely terrible.”

Neil had to try three separate times before he could unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

He couldn’t quite see it in the gloom, not with the way the light from the hallway cast her face in shadow, but Neil knew Lola had lifted one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows in fake surprise. She let out a laugh.

“I see your attitude is as sharp as ever. Your father will be so disappointed.” She tutted, stepping forward to grip his chin between sharp nails. “Let’s see if we can’t fix that before then, yes?”

Neil clawed uselessly at her arm, trying to get her to let go. She obliged after a few moments, but only to signal to more people in the hallway to come and subdue him. Neil fought tooth and nail against them, a rabid last-ditch effort to remain under his own power. In the end, however, it was useless. The men were vampires, and so any blood he spilt would be useless - assuming he could even wound them in the first place in such a weak state. He stopped struggling altogether when Lola turned back to him, a sick smile on her face.

“The darling crow here has told me you’ve been making friends Junior.” Any other time, Neil would have loved to see Riko’s reaction at being called a crow. As it stood, however, he was more concerned with the casual tone of Lola’s words. “It would be a shame if I had to pay them a visit.”

He went limp in his captors arms, signing his death certificate. Even if he could possibly find a way to escape before they brought him to his father, Neil’s life was not worth draggin the Foxes down with him. They had built something good in Palmetto. They might mourn him, sure, but eventually they would move on and keep doing good. The best thing he could do would be to leave them out of this. He glared up at Lola as the men hustled him past her.

“Now that’s a good boy.” She said, smug. Neil fantasized ripping her tongue and eyes out and feeding them to her. 

It was nighttime, naturally, when they finally hauled him out of Evermore. They hadn’t bothered to put a hood on him or keep him disoriented - he probably wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter. As they shoved him into the backseat next to Lola, who held a gun pointed at him, Neil found himself recalling something Jean had said to him when he had first carried Neil’s barely-conscious body into the Nest.  _ “Take a good look at the sky, you won’t be seeing it again.”  _ Neil’s response had been appropriately scathing and unimpressed in his head, but he had no idea if it even made it past his lips intact. Regardless, Jean had snorted at him, equally as unimpressed.

Now though, Neil kept the stars in view as long as he could. There weren’t many, owing to light pollution from the city, but he could overlay them with the endless expanses from his early memories. Maybe, once Lola and his father had had enough with him, he’d go to join them in the sky.

A sharp yank broke him out of the reverie, pushing him out of the way so they could slam the door shut. He tore his gaze away from the heavily tinted window and turned to look at Lola. Jackson hadn’t aged well, lost to the curse and distorted by his hunger. Lola, on the other hand, while definitely older, looked essentially the same - Romero too, from his spot in the driver’s seat. Neil had never thought to ask how exactly the siblings extended their lives so long without going mad, but he questioned it now.

“Look at that.” Lola said once the locks engaged and her brother started the car. “Junior’s all grown up. I’d said before that if you were just a little older you’d be just my type and now look at you. Nine years on the run and suddenly you’re a man.” 

She licked her lips, eyeing him in a way that could either mean she she was thinking about him naked or as her next meal - maybe both. Neil considered kicking out at her, but stopped when a passing streetlight reflected off of her gun.

“Rumor has it your some sort of rising vigilante. How unexpectedly strange the world is. Don’t worry though,” She grinned at him, “You won’t be in it much longer.”

Romero exited onto the highway, rattling down it at a speed that would have them getting pulled over if the Butcher hadn’t paid off half of the cops in the state and the Moriyamas the others. 

“Did you tell them?” He demanded, barely affording Neil a glance in the rear-view mirror. Out of the two siblings, he was typically viewed as the more sane. Neil knew, however, that he was the one who turned people into the bodies Lola disposed of.

“Do I look stupid.” Neil shot back. “Of course not.”

“Ah, but there’s the fae-boy.” Lola said, tapping Neil’s face lightly with the barrel of her gun. “Little Bird said he was there the first time he tried to kill you.”

Neil glared at her. “He remembered me, but he’s too scared of the Ravens to say anything.”

Lola hummed. “Oh I do hope that’s true. You know what we will do to them if you are lying."

“If I was and they knew, then I wouldn’t have gone to Evermore in the first place.” Neil retorted. “Remember, you had to give Riko a finder’s fee.”

Romero snorted from the front. “We gave his uncle a courtesy call and an ultimatum.”

Lola laughed. “Yes, I imagine little bird is probably going to be rather ruffled when he discovers that.”

Neil wondered suddenly at Tetsuji’s hands-off approach. After that first beating, he’d rarely laid a hand on Neil, just watched his nephew from afar. Had the older Tengu known that he’d acquired something more valuable? That Nathan’s men would come knocking? If he had, he certainly hadn’t warned Riko that he was playing with someone else’s toy.

“Speaking of ruffled feathers,” Lola perked up and the sinking feeling in Neil’s chest grew. “It’s tradition for me to tell a man what I plan on doing to him once the lights have all gone out!”

It was a tradition Neil was well familiar with. He’d been there to witness decades of of Lola’s special brand of mindfuckery. Romero rarely had to do anything at all to break his victims, usually just asking a few questions and then shooting them in the head. Even when he did have to break out his knives, the cuts were economical, nothing like the pleasure Lola took in describing their dismemberment.

Neil tried not to listen as she exposed every detail of her plan to cut his corpse apart. But even relying on every trick of disassociation in his impressive arsenal wasn’t enough to drown out her words. He tried to hide his fear, keeping his shaking hands in his pockets and nearly breaking his jaw to keep his face from betraying him. His death was nearing regardless of his reaction, but at least this way, he could rob them of their long-awaited joy.

Two miles past the state line, Romero pulled off the highway. Neil had half a mind to ask why, but didn’t want his curiosity used against him. It was shortly explained anyway as they pulled up next to a seemingly abandoned car on a back road just a minute from the exit. The vampire who had been silently riding shotgun walked around to take Romero’s place as the siblings hauled Neil into the second car. Before he could even contemplate an escape plan, the barrel of Romero’s gun appeared three inches from his face.

“Behave.” He said simply, shoving Neil into the front seat of the car. Nathan would surely be displeased if Neil wasn’t delivered to him still breathing, but Neil knew there were a great many ways to shoot a man without killing him. Still, it was tempting to knee Lola in the face when she knelt to cuff his feet to the seat. Less fun was the sensation of her crawling into the seat behind him and yanking his arms back so she could cuff them as well.

Romero’s gun disappeared, but Neil’s panic remained. Riko had liked to cuff him too - had Jean hold his feet down while he carved into Neil’s chest. Lola purred behind him and traced a fingernail along the welts from his previous struggles. The touch cut through his already frayed threads of control.

“You’ve played this game already, I see.” 

He could hear the smile in her voice, barely disguised by the sound of a knife flicking open. He clenched his fists closed at the first press of metal until Lola’s free hand forced him to open them. She teased the blade against the webbing of his fingers until the novelty wore off and she began cutting sharp lines along the creases of his fingers.

“Stop.” Neil ordered, begged.

“Make me.” Lola taunted, not pausing in her ministrations. When the lateral cuts seemed to lose her interest, she began to cross-hatch them. A single, burning line down the inside and outside of each finger.

“I have some questions, see.” She said at length. “And you’re going to answer them. Play nice and maybe I will too. Lie to me and, well…” The blade slipped and cut into the webbing between his pinky and ring finger. Neil stifled a scream, nearly biting through his bottom lip.

There was enough of a pause that Lola must have motioned something to her brother. Neil heard something on the dashboard click, but couldn’t see what it was Romero had turned on. He doubted it was the air conditioning.

“Now, as much as I’d love to cut you to pieces, Daddy dearest wants to do that pert himself. And you’ve already lost so much blood, we better not tempt things too far, no?” Lola chattered on, speaking about his torture like it was some intricate craft project. To her, it probably was. 

Almost on cue, however, something popped free of the dashboard. Neil caught sight of the burning coil as Romero passed it back to his sister. The daywalker struggled against his restraints. He didn’t care if he tore his wrists. He’d tear both his hands off if it meant getting away from Lola in that instant.

“I’ve always found fire to be rather uncontrolled. Where’s the mastery in letting a man burn? ” Lola drawled on, leaning forward so that her body pressed Neil’s arms against the seat and she could bring the coils up directly into his line of vision. “But it certainly has its uses, especially in small doses. Cauterization, for example, is very utilitarian when trying to make an experience last.”

Neil had frozen at the proximity of the lighter to his face, but he chanced a look at Lola now. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d throw up on her. “You’re sick.”

Lola’s knife came up against the right side of his face and he saw her grin in his periphery. “Don’t flinch.”

Ordinarily, an hour and a half drive barely registered to Neil - not after spending so long on the run with his mother. But between Lola’s knife, questions and the continually reheated dashboard lighter, the all-encompassing agony made it feel like a lifetime. No matter how many times he repeated his story, a version of the truth that would keep the Foxes safe, Lola kept at him. Eventually, the pain and the panic were too much and he couldn’t even form coherent sentences, let alone keep them straight. He was almost glad when they pulled up to another car and he was shoved into the trunk with Lola and a gun. The sticky sweet stench of chloroform might as well have been a gift from god.

Unfortunately, Lola had done her job well and he woke up throbbing on a too-familiar concrete floor. The brief respite of unconsciousness was the last good thing he was likely to receive in his lifetime and so he let everything else good slip away with it. All that remained was blood and pain and the assurance that Nathaniel Wesninski was about to die.

“Good morning Junior.” 

Nathaniel tried not to flinch at the sound of Lola’s voice from behind him. He wasn’t particularly successful, but he found he also didn’t much care. With a groan, he pushed himself to sitting. The effort was agony on his destroyed hands and arms, Lola’s main targets the hours before. After a few blinks he found the basement to be almost exactly as he remembered.

“You really do look quite like him, you know.” Lola chattered on, “Minus the artwork. The red really brings out those baby blues.”

“What?” Nathaniel’s breath felt like glass in his lungs. His hair had still been black in Evermore, he’d checked the roots meticulously. He reached up to try and tug some of it into view, but didn’t have much success beyond causing fresh pain to his hands.

“Oh we did you the favor of removing that horrible dye before your father woke up. Good thing he decided to sleep in today too. I can’t imagine he would have reacted well to the color.” 

The daywalker pushed himself to standing. Lola was probably right, but he didn’t have to give her the satisfaction of knowing his dread at the thought. Nathan would already be mad, what was one more change to ease the way? More pressing to him was the way his burns and cuts felt crusted over and itchy. Nathan’s basement was pristine, but that didn’t mean any of the surfaces he’d come in contact with up until that point were. 

Perhaps it was a futile to try and minimize infection right before his death, but it was one of the few things left under his control.

“How much longer is this going to take?” He hated how hoarse his voice sounded, wrung out from hours of screaming. 

“The waiting or the killing?” Lola shrugged when he turned to face her. She still had her gun and Nathaniel had no doubt it was cocked and ready to fire, despite the casual way it rested in her lap. “The latter might take a while.” She said finally. “It’s not usually his style, but you’ve cost enough to warrant it.”

Nathaniel wished he’d cost more.

Eventually, the door at the top of the stairs clicked open. Lola sprang to her feet behind him as the daywalker steeled his expression. To anyone else, it might have seemed like a chance at freedom, but Nathaniel knew better. The door clicked shut again and Nathaniel watched death walk down the stairs.

He did it in barefeet and comfortable clothes, a direct contrast with the lavish mansion situated above them. Nathan Wesninski was a man of wealth and power, but there was no point in getting dressed up for dirty work - even if the clothes could be replaced in a heartbeat. Just like the basement, time hadn’t touched his father. Over twelve hundred years old and he looked barely more than forty. His ice blue eyes shone as he dismounted the steps to the cool stone floor, so piercing that Nathaniel had to look away.

Lola wasn’t much better to look at - her face gleaming manically, neither was the hulking vampire that had accompanied Nathan down the stairs. Nathaniel took one look at the axe and cleaver he’d carried down with him and had to bite his tongue to keep from puking.

“Hello Junior.” 

Nathaniel swallowed the blood and bile, unsure of what answer he would even give. Apparently, silence was just as bad of a route to take. Nathan’s hand came to rest on his shoulder in a facsimile of comfort. Even though he expected the blow that followed, it still nearly brought him to the ground. The only reason he didn’t hit concrete was his father’s hand tightly gripping his throat and hauling him back upright.

“I said, ‘hello.’” Nathan repeated cooly.

It took Nathaniel three times to get the word out, and when he did, it was barely audible. “Hello.”

He saw Lola’s shoulders shake with mirth from where she’d come to stand behind his father, infinitely amused by his obedience.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Nathan commanded, bringing Neil’s attention back to him. The urge to puke bubbled up again. All of his practised apathy and he was reduced to a fearful child in a matter of seconds. He hated it almost as much as he hated the way Nathan described his mother as a disappointment - like Mary wasn’t twice the parent he’d ever been.

“She’s dead.” He all but spat back when Nathan inquired of her whereabouts. “You won.”

Nathan tilted his head, his gaze sliding over to Lola who just shrugged. “I believe him.” And of course she did. She’d asked him the same question and let him scream out his answer repeatedly for the better part of an hour with that godforsaken lighter.

Nathan’s grip moved to his face, crushing his cheeks and forcibly reopening the wounds there. “I guess I’ll just have to savor your death twice as much, then.” He said.

“I’ve been thinking about it for years, but now that the time has come, I can’t decide.” Nathan’s grip on his face slackened, but only enough to allow his fingernails to grow into claws that he could rake shallow cuts through his son’s burns with. “I could skin you alive, head to toe. I could carve you apart, one inch at a time. Or maybe we’ll do both. Peel back your skin and then cut out the flesh beneath. That might take all night if we do it right.”

The vampire lord released him and Nathaniel scrambled to get away. 

“Fuck you.” He spat viciously, fear and anger at his father’s words drowning out any last ounce of docile obedience. 

Nathan’s face hardened. “First though, we’ll start with your legs. You won’t ever be able to run from me again.”

“No.” Nathaniel hissed. His father was beckoning to the other vampire who had followed him down the steps. DiMaccio offered him his two weapons of choice, a blunt axe and a pristine meat cleaver. Nathaniel didn’t stay put long enough to see which tool his father chose. Going after the man himself was suicide on the best of terms, let alone armed and with his right-hand man beside him. Nathaniel would have to take his chances against Lola’s knife and gun.

She grinned when he whirled on her, stepping between him and the bolted door that led to the garage for easy body disposal. Still, she let out a strangled noise when Nathaniel’s fist connected with her windpipe. He’d take a moment to feel satisfaction that his sparring with Jean was paying off, but too much of his awareness was taken up by the shattering waves of pain that washed up his arm and consumed him. 

Her surprise gave him enough time to reach the door and unbolt it, unfortunately, that was where his luck ran out. 

“Move.” 

Nathan’s warning was undoubtedly meant for Lola, but Nathaniel would have been stupid to do anything other than throw himself to the opposite side. Metal screeched on metal as the cleaver meant for his head carved a neat line through the door. Nathaniel tried to stand, put more distance between him and his father, even if it meant moving further from the door. Nathan’s foot moved faster, however, and swiftly buried itself in his ribcage, sending him sprawling back towards Lola. Agony was such a constant now that it was almost easier for Nathaniel to ignore it as he tried to get to his feet again.

“Lola,” Nathan’s voice was dangerously heated. “Would you like the honor of removing my son of his hamstrings?”

“Can I?” Lola’s eyes glittered with sick delight, ignoring Nathaniel’s protest as she marched towards him. They had gone milky white, the hallmark of her curse. He thought of another wendigo, another fight, another concrete cage of life and death.

The Butcher was still describing his plan to cripple Nathaniel when he shot forward, barrelling directly into Lola. It didn’t matter that the gun in her hand misfired, grazing his leg, nor that the knife clattered uselessly to the floor. 

What mattered was that she’d left her neck unprotected.

_ Wendigo blood, while not the ideal vampire meal, is occasionally used as a power enhancer, given that it temporarily grants the ability to heal and regenerate from physical damages at an enhanced rate. Consumption also enhances physical performance, granting higher strength, reflexes, and overall resilience. This creature’s blood has also been known to lead to distortion of one’s sense of time and identity, altered mood, irritability, increased aggression, and depression or suicidal tendencies. _

Nathaniel didn’t need a lot to feel the effects of Lola’s blood, but he kept drinking as long as he could until her struggling became too annoying. When he shoved her away from him - and directly into DiMaccio, his teeth were still latched onto her throat, tearing a chunk out. He stared detachedly at her twitching body as the large vampire dumped it on the floor in front of him with disgust. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nathan’s face was contorted with barely contained rage, but Nathaniel felt nothing but eery calm and the steady itch of his wounds trying to heal themselves over. He tilted his head, barely conscious of the cleaver still held in his father’s hand.

“You always wanted me to be a killer like you.” He explained placidly. “Is it not everything you imagined?”

Nathan snarled and lunged at him - a mistake given that Neil could literally hear Lola’s blood pumping through his digestive system and into his veins. Luckily for his father, at least temporarily, DiMaccio was just as smart as he was loyal. Both Wesninskis watched in silence as he stumbled back, Lola’s knife embedded in his back, right between his third and forth ribs. Nathaniel laughed as he recalled that Lola had a fondness for coating her knives in silver. He didn’t think DiMaccio would be helping his father any time soon.

His father’s reaction was less than pleased, but Nathaniel couldn’t find it in himself to feel afraid anymore. Nathan was still a monster, but he’d spent the last year learning how to overcome monsters far more dangerous. Nathan had tried and tried for centuries to turn his son into a killer. One year with the Foxes had turned him into something more dangerous.

In the end, The Butcher died with little fanfare, his cleaver discarded, his hands scrabbling to free himself from his only son’s unforgiving grip.

Nathaniel had felt people’s hearts before. Lola had been rather fond of teaching him the various ways to carve them out and butcher them up properly. For some reason, Nathan’s felt squishier than he expected. He would have spent more time examining this revelation, but noise from outside drew his attention to the cellar door. 

The steel block nearly blew off its hinges and the basement was flooded with figures in a mix of suits and tactical gear.

The sound of their entry had alerted more of Nathan’s people from upstairs and Nathaniel didn’t bother helping or cowering from the firefight that ensued. Whoever these newcomers were, they had no patience for the knives and teeth his father’s people descended with, using silver bullets with brutal efficiency. It was over so quickly Nathaniel almost didn’t recognize the ringing in his ears as silence. Then someone was speaking - a voice almost familiar, cutting through the haze.

“Nathan, let go of the body.”

Nathan? Nathan was  _ dead. _

He crushed the vampire’s heart a little harder just to be sure, disentangling his arm from his father’s corpse and yanking the remains of the organ with it. Almost immediately four guns cocked and were aimed at his head. He ignored them in favor of examining the bloody pulp in his hand.

“Fucking hell.”

The voice said again and understanding hit Nathaniel, slow and overwhelming like a wave of molasses. The voice was familiar because it sounded like his mother - came from his mother’s brother. These were the Hatfords, come to save the day.

He let out a laugh, sounding more painful than happy.

“My name is Nathaniel.” He choked, finally turning to look Stuart in the eye, the angle uncomfortable and odd. “My father is dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: extreme blood and violence - at canon levels plus some supernatural aspects, blood drinking, burns, torture, knives, gun use, character death, disassociation, drug-like effects, kidnapping, gore
> 
> Thank you for suffering with me/Neil.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter the amazing @microolli made art for!  
Please check it out [here](https://microolli.tumblr.com/post/187517014826/i-had-the-pleasure-of-working-with-itsstickball)!

_ Kevin followed Andrew out of the conference room without hesitation. He must’ve read the werewolf’s intentions because he picked a blanket up off the couch on their way to the stairs and up to the roof. Andrew lit a cigarette and for once Kevin didn’t complain about it. _

_ “You were listening.” He said instead, coming to a stop a few feet behind Andrew. “All those months of saying you didn’t care, and yet.” _

_ “And yet.” Andrew echoed, not turning to look at him. Turning would mean having to acknowledge that the thing that had slowly been growing in the dark ever since Kevin promised to make something of him was now too big to hide. Andrew hadn’t believed Kevin could ever make good on his side of their deal, but he’d accepted it all the same. _

“I’m self destructive, not stupid.” _ His own words slapped him in the face, carried by the cold winter wind.  _

_ Kevin made an inquisitive sound behind him, finally convincing Andrew to turn and face him. He let out a huff through his nose. The blanket Kevin had grabbed was the orange monstrosity Neil had laid claim to months prior. He had it wrapped around him like a shield. _

_ “You used to say it was more fun to tell people no.” Kevin started, quiet and unsure. Andrew could see him wringing his fingers on the edges of the blanket. “But that changed with Neil didn’t it?” _

_ “No.” Kevin’s face fell, but Andrew continued. “The rules of the game never changed. Neil just learned to play.” _

_ Andrew watched the fae’s expression contort, trying to figure out what Andrew meant - how he could learn too. Content to wait him out, Andrew remained impassive. At the point where he usually gave up, snapped something about Andrew being difficult, Kevin let out a sigh.  _

_ “What are the rules?”  _ Teach me to play.

_ Maybe old dogs  _ could _ learn new tricks. For once, Andrew took pity on him.  _

_ “‘Yes’ and ‘No’ only matter if the asker respects both answers.” _

_ He said, letting Kevin figure out the rest. What was that old saying? Something about leading a horse to water? If Kevin wanted anything then he was going to have to adapt, put aside his stubbornness and accept that there were some things he couldn’t control. Until then, the thing they’d built between them was baseless. _

_ After a few moments, Andrew put the cigarette out on the ledge and tucked it back in his pocket. A minute later Kevin came up beside him, the blanket slouching around his shoulders. _

_ “I want -” He cut himself off, started again. “I would like to kiss you. Can I?” _

_ A small juvenile part of Andrew’s brain wanted to reply “I don’t know, can you?” But Kevin was actually trying - laying aside his stubborn will and letting Andrew have the final say without argument.  _

_ He nodded. _

_ “You have to keep your hands to yourself.” _

_ “I - okay. Yeah.” Kevin blinked, clearly surprised that Andrew had said yes. Andrew gave him a flat look and wrapped the blanket tighter around him, effectively ensuring that Kevin couldn’t accidentally forget and pull his hands out. _

_ Then, he kissed him. _

_-_ _\- _ _-_

Andrew liked to think that he'd gotten better at controlling his reactions to someone waking him up unceremoniously. His time with the foxes and his family had granted him a better sense of safety at night, but he still didn't take kindly to being woken up without warning.

Thankfully, Nicky didn't seem to hold the violent reaction against him.

"Jesus." He wheezed from the floor where he'd fallen after Andrew lashed out with the side of his fist. It must have hit him square in the chest to make him out of breath like that. "That never gets less painful."

"What. The fuck."

Andrew scratched out, his voice raw from sleep and the engrained panic of an attack in the night. The memory of kissing Kevin on the roof nearly a week ago faded into the background as he waited for some kind of explanation. 

Nicky had the good grace to look apologetic as he stood. "It's...Well, it’s probably better that you come see for yourself."

Andrew absolutely did  _ not _ like the sound of that. Nothing he had to see for himself would ever be  _ better _ . He barely resisted the urge to growl, and waved Nicky out of his room so he could get dressed. If it was important enough to wake him up, then he had no desire to face it in pajamas.

When he came downstairs, over half of the Tower, including Wymack and the upperclassmen were gathered in the main living room. Andrew scanned the room habitually to figure out what had them all riled up, his memory storing every detail. When his gaze landed on bright red hair, pale, torn skin and eyes the color of ice, Andrew froze. 

His mouth pulled into a displeased sneer. 

The coloring was all wrong, and a fair amount of the rips, burns, and bruises were new. Still, the figure hunched between Wymack and the wall was undoubtedly Neil Josten. The idiot with a death wish; the runaway who stayed to make himself a martyr. Andrew would know the shape of him anywhere.

"You know I hate surprises."

The figure unfolded slightly at the sound of his voice, despite the loathing in it. 

Where before his eyes had seemed unfocused, staring out at the room in general, they snapped up at Andrew’s words. It was one thing to suspect that Neil had been concealing the true color of his eyes, to be told they were blue, but another completely to have them locked on to him. It was like staring into a glacier.

The room, which had been full of quiet conversations when Andrew slunk down the stairs, was silent. Andrew steadily ignored the others in favor of glaring at those stupid blue eyes. Finally, Neil spoke.

"Not as much as you hate broken promises."

If Andrew's voice had been rough, then Neil's was made of broken glass - a bunch of jagged edges tumbling around and tearing their way out of his throat. Andrew knew the feeling too well. Unfortunately, there were only so many ways to destroy a voice like that.

_ "So was this me breaking my promise, or you keeping yours? _

Andrew switched to German. Nicky and Aaron would still be able to understand them, but two eavesdroppers were better than ten. 

_ "Neither. This was my father catching up to me." _

_ "And here I thought your father was dead." _

_ "He is now, yeah.” _

Andrew narrowed his eyes further at that. He distinctly didn't like the implication that Neil had definitely lied to him about his family before.

_ “Anyone else waiting to pop out of the woodwork and abduct you? Your mother, maybe?” _

Andrew taunted, unamused despite the teasing lilt of his voice. This was Neil’s chance to come clean - and if he wanted any chance at gaining Andrew’s trust back, he’d take it.

_ “Still a pile of ash and bone buried on the coast of California.”  _ He shook his head.  _ “Everything I told you about her was true.” _

Andrew opened his mouth to scoff at that, but it seemed Neil wasn’t finished.

_ “I have an uncle though.”  _ He said,  _ “Stuart Hatford.” _

_ “Yes. We’ve talked.”  _

The werewolf drawled, leaning up against the stair railing and inspecting his nails. The tidbit of honesty was refreshing, but immensely boring. Andrew had been antagonizing Stuart Hatford for nearly a week now. Neil frowned like that was news to him and Andrew couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. Dishonesty ran in the family, it seemed.

_ “I’m surprised the bastard let you out of his sight, to be honest.” _

Andrew continued. His face was its usual mask of bored indifference, but he honed in on the way Neil’s demeanor changed at those words. He looked simultaneously like he was ready to pounce on anything that came close and like he was preparing his own funeral. 

Finally, something  _ interesting _ .

_ “I didn’t give him much of a choice.” _

Neil replied, tone hard as steel. Andrew saw the blue of his eyes, the tremor of absolute vulnerability set into their core, however. Whatever Neil had done to force his uncle’s hand had been a hail mary. Andrew had the nauseating feeling that if they let Neil walk out of the Tower on his own tonight, they would never see him there again. He pushed off the railing, half stepping, half jumping the few remaining steps to the ground floor and then strode over until he was no more than a foot from the daywalker.

In turn, Neil unfolded himself from the heap he’d composed on the floor. Where before his position had hidden most of his frame, now there was nothing left for Andrew to imagine. Even clad in too-large sweats that smelled like someone else, he could see every place Neil held himself carefully: every lumpy stiff bandage hidden beneath loose cloth. He could also see that despite the way he hunched in on himself, Neil was still noticeably fit - noticeably  _ attractive. _ The scars that covered his face and hands, the obnoxious hair, the glacier eyes - they were so far from the Neil they’d lost weeks ago. Yet Andrew still found himself wanting. He snarled at himself internally for it.

_ “I know I shouldn’t want to,”  _ Neil quietly began after a moment, unaware of the way Andrew had to force himself not to reach up and grip the back of his neck.  _ “But I want to stay.” _

Andrew stared at him a few moments longer, hating the way that Neil just let him. Hating the way that he wanted to see what else Neil would let him do, what other secrets he would spill.

“They’re not taking you away from us.” Andrew said at last, switching to English so the others could understand. “Never again.”

Neil looked like he thought it was too good to be true. For once in his life, the idiot was stunned into silence. Andrew thought about asking if he got a prize for shutting him up, but the quiet was ruined by a sharp inhale behind him. Kevin was late to the party, probably owing to how long it typically took to wake him up. Andrew eyed the ring of purple and yellow around the fae’s neck as he approached, scrambling down the stairs like an undignified child only to freeze at the bottom.

“Neil?”

He whispered, like if he said it any louder the universe might hear and take him away from them again. It echoed every hateful emotion tumbling around inside of Andrew.

“Can I really be Neil again?”

The human - the vampire? The conundrum, asked. They certainly had a fun night of explanations ahead of them. Andrew found that he didn’t mind the thought, though. He was pissed beyond belief, but more than that, he was  _ relieved _ . Relieved that Neil was here again, that he had survived, that he had kept his promise and returned.

“Thank you” was a shitty goodbye anyway - made even shittier by the fact that Kevin had to be the one to deliver it.

Where Andrew prefered to keep his tumultuous emotions in check until they purified into pointed nothingness, Kevin was a mess. Andrew almost wondered how he’d survived Riko’s Nest at Evermore, but even he wasn’t so cruel as to point that out. Neil’s question looked like it punched a hole straight through the half-fae. He took a step towards Neil before halting and meeting Andrew’s eyes.

For just a moment, Andrew considered telling him no. He had no doubt Kevin would listen. Even with Neil, he was too cowardly to fight for what he wanted and the battered sight before them had Andrew’s anger rising to the surface once more.

But….

He nodded, stepping to the side and allowing the fae to invade his space in order to get to Neil. Andrew didn’t particularly care to listen to their hushed conversation, but he did care to warn off the others whose curiosity was significantly stronger and whose self control was weaker. 

Nicky, at least had the good grace to look ashamed at being caught. Dan and Matt looked fiercely protective, like they might try to fight him and Kevin for Neil - as if any of them could claim custody of such a wild  beautiful thing. Allison had the gall to return Andrew’s stare with one of her own, no remorse and no reason beyond her own interest while Renee stood politely behind her, actually minding her own damn business. Under different circumstances, he would have applauded her gall. As it were, he imagined meticulously shredding every one of her designer handbags - maybe that would teach her to keep her nose out of things that didn’t concern her. 

She smirked at him and tapped Nicky on the shoulder before holding out her hand, palm open. Nicky looked confused for a moment before sighing and digging around in his pockets. Andrew felt his eye twitch when a crumpled twenty dollar bill made its way out of Nicky’s sleep shorts and into Reynold’s pristine palm.

Luckily for her, the two idiots behind him thought that was a good time to stop speaking French or whatever the hell language they used with each other and start including him again.

“I - are you sure?” Neil seemed so small again and it made Andrew want to hurl him off the roof, hurl himself off the roof, hurl  _ something _ off the roof. “Me being here is probably a danger to everyone.”

“We told Neil Josten to stay.” He cut in before the urge could turn to strangling both him and Kevin for making him feel so damn...much. He had two hands, he could do it. “If Neil is who you want to be, then you have a place here.”

It was possible that his voice rose in accordance with his anger. But more than that, Andrew was tired of being the only one to talk Neil down from the cliff of martyrdom. If the other Foxes wanted to be so nosy and insistent on watching, then they could damn well lend a hand too.

“Of course we want you to stay.”

Matt chimed in, catching on immediately. 

“You’re a part of the Fox family, whether you like it or not.” Dan agreed, her smile small but fierce. 

“There’s always a place for you.” Renee added softly, her smile larger and gentler.

“We’ve always made trouble, what’s one more hooligan in the mix?” Allison said, feigning boredom despite her keen interest a few moments earlier.

Andrew watched Neil’s eyes -  _ blue blue blue _ \- flit across the room, analysing each face, looking for signs of a lie that didn’t exist. He wondered again how someone so clever could be so dumb.

“You broke our deal.” He ground out. “But if you think we’re going to let you throw yourself out after we just got you back then you’re stupider than I thought.”

“Yeah?” The glimmer of hope in Neil’s voice made Andrew want to punch him in the face...possibly with his mouth - definitely  _ not _ softly.

“Yeah.” Kevin answered for him, seemingly recovered from his own panic and depression now that he had proof Neil was alive and  _ mostly _ well.  _ Fine, _ as Neil would undoubtedly claim.

Neil sighed, the tension leaking out of his body. He went to rub at his eyes, red rimmed undoubtedly from torture and lack of sleep. The hiss he made when he realized that the action would only aggravate the bandaged wounds on his fingers was  _ not _ cute.

“I guess I owe you an explanation now.” 

“Maybe not  _ right _ now…” Matt said, glancing at the clock and the exhaustion clearly written on each of their faces.

“You look like you could use a few days of sleep.” Dan agreed.

Allison clicked her tongue. “I dunno. Do vampires need sleep?”

“Technically no, but I’m only half.” Neil replied with uncharacteristic honesty.

“In the morning then.” Renee said with a gentle finality.

Matt hesitated for a moment before saying, “We kept your room made up for you.” His eyes darted from Neil to Andrew then to Kevin. “You know, if you want to use it.”

“Thanks Matt.” Neil said, he sounded tired but also appreciative of the offer. “I’d rather not be alone tonight though.”

He said  _ tonight _ ...but Andrew knew that look. He had a very good feeling it would be a long time before Neil ever got comfortable sleeping alone again. Looking around, Andrew could tell that he wasn’t the only one thinking it. He sighed, a little rumbly thing and pushed Neil gently back down to sit on the couch. Once the confused red-head didn’t seem to have any plans of moving, Andrew stood and darted up the stairs, using his supernatural speed to take the steps three at a time. He landed on the main floor a few moments later with three pillows and several blankets. And if Neil’s orange monstrosity happened to be in the pile, well, Kevin could explain why it had been upstairs in the first place.

“What?” He said when a few of the others just stared at him like he’d sprouted two extra heads. “Were you planning on wasting more time arguing over where he slept tonight?”

He shoved the bedding at Kevin, who then passed some of it to Neil to get comfortable. Neil took them without complaint but then looked up at Andrew.

“I need to make a call.” He said simply. Andrew didn’t need him to say who he was calling.

“It can wait until the morning.”

“Andrew.” Neil said, a warning in his voice. “If I don’t call him tonight -.”

“Then your uncle can come in here and try and pry you away from us.” Andrew bit back, loud enough for the others to hear even as they all moved to coordinate their own sleeping arrangements. Andrew looked around, more for a point than to actually see the reactions of the rest of the Foxes. “I don’t think he’ll be very successful.”

Neil’s sigh was filled to the brim with resignation.

“Good.” Andrew nodded. “Now where do you want to be?”

He meant it ostensibly in terms of where Neil wanted to sleep, but the halfling stared at him like he wanted to read further into it.

“Right here is fine.” He said at length, looking from Andrew to Kevin before levering himself onto the floor along with his pillow and several blankets.

Andrew nodded, but took it upon himself to arrange a space large enough for Neil to be in the middle, with him and Kevin flanking. The others filtered in around them, moving couches and procuring more cushions and blankets until they were a tangled mob on the floor. Wymack had been mostly silent through it all, trusting them to organize themselves without any fights. He didn’t join them on the floor, but Andrew noted that his place on the couch put him directly between his Foxes and the door.

When the blonde turned his attention back to the two men in front of him, he found both of them to be already looking at him. 

“Go to sleep.” 

He scolded them both, closing his eyes and pretending to do the same until their breaths evened out. At some point, Neil thrashed slightly, caught in some nightmare. Rather than pushing him away, Andrew moved closer, catching Neil’s fist in one of his own and holding it gently. It was self-preservation, that’s all. He didn’t want to get hit in the face when the nightmare inevitably got worse.

Andrew had never been a good liar, least of all to himself.

Still, he held onto Neil’s hand until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A second chapter? And it's hardly even violent?
> 
> TW: violent reactions to being woken up, scars/wounds, vague threats, mentions of nightmares


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's this?? An update?  
Sorry for the long wait. I am committed to finishing this for y'all  
So for now, have a little bit of comfort to soothe your souls.

_ His father was dead.  _

_ His father was dead.  _

_ His father - _

_ He didn’t realize he’d started laughing hysterically again until Stuart strode forward and pushed him down to his knees, forcing his head down and telling him to breathe. _

_ “Fucking hell.” Stuart repeated. He must have motioned something to his men because soon there was the sound of safeties clicking back into place and people moving brusquely around the basement. “Nathaniel? Just breathe kid.” _

_ Nathaniel wheezed out another laugh. _

_ Kid.  _

_ He hadn’t felt like a kid in a long time, despite his slow-aging cells. Stuart, on the other hand, looked like the past nine years had done a number on him. There were lines creasing his face that spoke of more than just momentary concern. The hand that gripped the back of Nathaniel’s neck had a thick scar running up it and into Stuart’s sleeve that hadn’t been there the last time he’d seen him either. His uncle caught his gaze and let out his own huff of a laugh. _

_ “A present from one of those unseelie bastards.” _

_ Nathaniel remembered briefly the distinctions the elves and the fae liked to draw between them, despite having similar ancestors. The memory also brought with it the image of a certain half-fae, reading the history of those distinctions to him late at night. It felt like the wisp of a dream - there, and gone again. _

_ “Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here. Your human neighbors are bound to do something about the gunshots sooner or later and it’s best we’re not here when they do.” _

_ It was then that Nathaniel realized what the rest of his uncle’s people were doing. _

_ “You’re going to burn the place?” _

_ Stuart’s expression hardened, flicking for a moment to the figures pulling bodies into a pile and dumping gasoline around the room. The smell of it was sharp to Nathaniel’s heightened senses. _

_ “It’ll buy us some time to figure out how to negotiate with the Moriyamas.” Stuart explained.  _

_ Nathaniel tilted his head consideringly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the pieces to a bigger puzzle were trying to assemble themselves. Unfortunately, their progress was derailed by the fading toxins from Lola’s blood that fragmented anything less than perfectly obvious. _

_ Stuart sighed. _

_ “We were only allowed to come on the premise that we left Nathan alive.”  _

_ And Nathaniel had blown that out of the water. _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “Yeah, kid - ‘oh.’ Now come on, let’s get you out of here before you crash.” _

_ Nathaniel nodded - or at least, he thought he did - and slumped against Stuart as his uncle helped him back to standing. That might be easier said than done. _

_-_ _-_ _-_

Waking up in the morning was a slow, troublesome process. Everything ached and even the thought of moving sounded like torture. Neil knew he’d have to eventually, though. He could hear the shuffling of others slowly coming to consciousness and moving around. He’d promised the Foxes answers and the fact that they’d waited this long was a miracle in itself.

Still, he kept a few moments to himself to wonder at how he’d even gotten here. Andrew had said he was familiar with Neil’s uncle, but that felt like a joke. It had been nearly a decade since he’d seen Stuart and even in the years before that he and his mother rarely heard from the elf. To think that Andrew Minyard was more familiar with Stuart than Neil himself was mind boggling.

Then again, a lot of things about Andrew were mind boggling - like the fact that Neil had sparsely opened his eyes and saw him watching Aaron and Kevin in the kitchen before the blonde turned to him and called him out.

“Staring.”

He said, turning his head long enough to give Neil a flat look. Unfortunately, his acknowledgement that Neil was awake brought all other activity in the kitchen to a halt. Aaron stepped away from the fridge and craned his neck to look at Neil, but thankfully went back to what he was doing after just a moment. Kevin on the other hand, nearly burnt his hand with coffee from the mug held tightly in his hand as he hurried to bring it over.

“You’re awake? Finally.”

Neil sat up. There was no point in pretending now. 

“Unfortunately.” 

He said, trying to wave off Kevin’s enthusiasm and get the cottony feeling out of his mouth at the same time. Every movement provoked the cramping feeling of stiff limbs, every twinge accompanied by the throb and sting of half-healed wounds. Wendigo blood was never a good healing agent, he remembered irritably. Kevin handed him the mug and a sniff told Neil that it wasn’t actually coffee. He glanced up at Kevin dubiously.

“It’s safe.” He said, which was nice, but not actually what Neil was concerned with.

“I’ve been eating human food for nearly a decade.” He said slowly, still holding the mug halfway between Kevin and himself.

The fae’s expression hardened slightly. “And a lot of good it’s done you.”

Neil opened his mouth to argue. Remaining human had been the only thing keeping him in hiding and safe from his father’s people. It had done him the most good of anything he’d done during that time.

Andrew, evidently, could sense the clusterfuck of an argument they were about to start. Before Neil could so much as hiss angrily, he stuck his arm out and forced the mug closer to Neil’s body.

“Drink the damn blood.” He said, calm but undeniably giving an order.

The motion had caused some of the red liquid to slosh over the side and onto Neil’s hand but he ignored it. Similarly, he refrained from looking at Andrew in order to level the full force of his unnatural stare at Kevin. When he spoke, it was in French.

_ “I’ll drink it if you talk to your father.” _

The words had their intended effect. The Fae shrank back, the shock and horror of Neil’s words momentarily holding back his indignation.

_ “That’s none of your business.” _ He snarled back once his composure returned. Beside them, Andrew looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be amused or displeased with their secret conversation.

_ “No.” _ Neil replied - calmly, cold. He glanced at Andrew, hoping to convey that this was better left to play out.  _ “But it is his business. You’re not protecting him anymore.” _

_ “How did you even?”  _ Kevin started to hiss, but then cut himself off.  _ “Jean.” _

_ “Jean.”  _ Neil repeated in confirmation. The fire of Kevin’s ire went out like a candle in the wind.

_ “Of course Jean told you.” _

_ “To be fair, there wasn’t a lot else to talk about.”  _ Neil said in the gargoyle’s defense. He knew things were complicated between them - just like they were between himself and the frenchman. 

Kevin sighed.  _ “Fine.” _

Neil smiled, small and smug, then lifted his mug in a salute. He licked the blood from his hand first before taking a small sip. The liquid was warm and fragrant, but he refrained from drinking it any faster. No matter that he felt its effects almost immediately, the daywalker refused to be a slave to his impulses.

“I still want eggs.” He said, just to tick Kevin off. 

Andrew snorted and rolled his eyes but made no signs of moving anytime soon. Nicky, on the other hand, outed himself as an eavesdropper by calling out “I got it!” enthusiastically from the kitchen. Neil then heard a ‘thwap’ and then Nicky complaining, so he assumed Aaron had been doing the same. 

Neil looked around, slightly confused that there weren’t more people in the common rooms. Kevin must’ve read the befuddlement on his face because he was quick to explain.

“They went upstairs to shower and change.”

Right. Because they’d all slept on the floor, in the living room. Just because Neil’s life had been turned upside down for weeks didn’t mean that they suddenly stopped living normal lives.

“They’re not the only ones that could use it.” 

Andrew’s disdain cut through Neil’s self-deprecating thoughts. Kevin made an inquisitive sound and Neil looked between them, curious as to how this would play out. He might be completely exhausted, but it would take a blind and deaf man to miss how things had changed between them.

“He hasn’t finished-” Andrew cut Kevin off with a dismissive wave.

“Will it keep?”

The fae looked mildly put out by the logic - pouty, even. “Yes, but -”

“He can finish it when he’s clean, then.”

“He’s right here and capable of thinking for himself, thanks.” Neil reminded them, feeling agitated despite his fatigue. 

While he didn’t think they’d be happy with the intrusion, Neil hardly expected the twin looks of simmering frustration and ominous intent. For once in his life he did the wise thing and kept silent. Neil took another sip of the blood to keep himself busy until they got bored of glaring at him and glared at each other instead.

The argument over the correct schedule for his morning ended the way most conversations with Andrew did. 

_ “Fine.” _ Kevin huffed out a sigh.

Neil had half expected him to push the matter further with Andrew, especially since he’d promised an awful lot just to get Neil to start drinking the blood in the first place. But, he realized, this was just another evidence that something had changed between the fae and the werewolf while he’d been gone. 

Andrew nodded and stood, turning slightly to offer Neil a hand up as well. He narrowed his eyes and mouth to show that he was still displeased with being treated like a child, but accepted the help without comment. He’d had enough blood to know that Andrew’s nose must be burning. Neil had scrubbed the worst of the blood off with water once Stuart got them away from the house, but that did fuck all to get rid of weeks of built up stench. A shower was probably a good idea.

While the blood was quickly working to help heal his injuries, it didn’t have much effect on his energy level. Aside from supernatural sources like wendigos, blood consumption didn’t work the way most people thought it did. He didn’t suddenly level up like in one of Aaron and Nicky’s video games. It was an excellent energy source, but it could still only provide so much. Healing was just as exhausting of a process for those who consumed it - despite the speed at which it happened. He’d only start to feel stronger once everything had been mended.

Until then, he’d have to lean on Andrew and Kevin. 

The latter took the mug full of blood from him while the former helped him to stand, both working in relative silence. In fact, none of them said a word until Kevin had headed back to the kitchen and Andrew had hauled him halfway up the stairs. Their awkward weight distribution had Neil almost stumbling directly into Matt, who was coming down the opposite way. Thankfully, Andrew’s strength was enough to keep him upright.

“Neil!” The half-giant exclaimed, surprised and ecstatic. “You’re up!”

He glanced at where Andrew was supporting him, including the grip Neil had on the werewolf’s forearm. “What’re you -?” Given his lack of insight into their deal and the fact that Andrew attacked most anyone else who touched him, Matt’s confusion was understandable. It was also something he had no energy to unravel at the moment so he cut Matt’s question off with a quick wave and a grunt.

“Shower.” He said, wrinkling his nose for effect. 

Thankfully, Matt seemed to understand - or was at least willing to let it go.

“Got it.” He said, some of his original cheer returning. He still seemed cautious - like he had when Neil had first joined them and none of them really knew how to interact. Neil supposed that was fair. None of them knew they’d signed on for a half-undead son of an immortal infamous nightmare.

Andrew tugged him both literally and mentally out of it, forcing him to continue their journey up the stairs. Rather than push him towards his own suite, though, the werewolf took him into the rooms he shared with Kevin. A more alert Neil would have taken the opportunity to get a good look around, as this was the first time he’d been  _ invited _ into the space. As it stood, however, he was just mildly pleased when Andrew dumped him almost gently onto a bed that smelled like the wolf and then told him to stay put.

“‘M not a dog.” Neil said, just to be contrary. But he’d already half-closed his eyes and slumped into a more comfortable position. He heard a huff - either amused or displeased, from Andrew and then footsteps back out into the main hall.

He must’ve dozed off for a minute, because the next thing he knew Andrew was pulling him to stand again. Being manhandled was far from Neil’s favorite activity, but he trusted Andrew not to hurt him as they moved into the bathroom. There was already a stack of clean clothes sitting on the toilet waiting for him and once he was sure Neil could stand by himself, Andrew moved to get the shower started and the water heating.

Ostensibly, Neil knew he’d have to undress to get clean, but the thought of moving sounded acutely unappealing. He could feel some of the deeper scratches that he’d allowed Stuart’s medic to bandage had knitted back together, leaving only surface-level wounds. But that still meant there was a lot of shallow damage to rub and pull each time he changed position.

Andrew turned around to find him still standing there, exactly the way he’d left him. The resulting huff was decidedly more annoyed than the last and was accompanied by an eye roll. 

“C’mere.” He said, rather unnecessarily given that he stepped closer to Neil as he spoke. Neil figured it was more a heads-up that he planned to help than an actual order.

“Yes.” He said after a moment of meeting Andrew’s eyes, answering the werewolf’s unspoken question as his hands paused at the collar of Neil’s borrowed sweatshirt.

Rather than pull it off over Neil’s head, however, Andrew simply gripped the collar firmly with one hand and dragged a transformed claw down the front of it with the other, tearing it in two. Neil let out his own huff, amused by the dramatics. He had half a mind to ask Andrew if he planned on burning or burying the clothing later on, but was stopped by a look from the man.

His lips said “One-hundred and three percent.” But his glare said Neil was probably right. He smiled lazily, despite the way Andrew peeled the remaining garment off more roughly than necessary. 

“Werewolf.” Neil couldn’t resist poking, even as he allowed Andrew to peel the bandages off of his torso and reveal the marred flesh underneath.

“Vampire.”

He shot back, stepping back to let Neil remove his own pants and underwear.

“Only half.” Neil reminded him, then suddenly fell quiet - his expression falling as he looked at the shower. It wasn’t that he cared about being naked in front of Andrew. He’d had enough nude interactions with others in his life both sexual and not to have grown accustomed to that. But undressing had seemed like a mountain of a task and even just the thought of having to wash himself was exhausting.

“Get in.” Andrew commanded, voice strangely soft even as he commanded Neil. The daywalker hesitated only for a moment then stepped past him and into the spray. Ordinarily the warmth would have felt soothing on his tired body - but he winced as it hit his various injuries. 

He had just figured out a way to stand that kept him as much under the water as possible without being in agony when the curtain opened behind him and Andrew stepped into the tub with him.

“What -?”

The blonde looked at him like he doubted Neil’s intelligence, it was achingly familiar.

“Did you have an actual plan to wash yourself?” Neil’s silence was confirmation enough. “That’s what I thought.”

The wet fabric of his boxers couldn’t have been comfortable, but Andrew ignored it to reach around Neil for the shampoo. When he’d lathered it through the daywalker’s hair and tilted his head back under the spray, Neil was tempted to just keep his eyes closed. He trusted Andrew to take care of him. The werewolf dissuaded this by flicking him abruptly in the nose.

“Fall asleep and I’ll leave you in here to drown.”

Neil highly doubted that, but he kept his eyes open the rest of the time anyway. Andrew was quick and efficient, his motions gentle as he passed over raw and sliced skin, but brusk everywhere else. After all the soap had gone down the drain, Neil looked up at Andrew’s face. He’d been doing it most of the time - he realized with a start. And even more than that, Andrew had let him.

The blonde looked up and Neil opened his mouth, meaning to ask where they stood now - with everything laid bare. But then there was a pounding on the door and Kevin’s voice on the other side, complaining about Allison.

Neil looked back at Andrew, but he just rolled his eyes and pushed him out of the shower, the gruffness of his motion belayed by the way he held onto Neil’s arm until he was steady on the other side.

“That’s your problem, not mine.” He said, handing Neil a towel, clearly expecting him to dry himself as much as possible while he cleaned himself. He waited for Neil’s nod before closing the curtain between them. As he dried, Neil stolidly ignored the sound of Andrew’s wet underwear hitting the shower floor. There were still some parts that it hurt to reach, and Neil was contemplating the merits of air-drying when there was another knock on the door. 

Andrew grunted as Neil looked up at the sound and Kevin entered the room.

One look at Neil was all it took for him to sigh and then grab the towel now hanging limply from the daywalker’s hands. Like Andrew, the gentleness with which he dried surprised Neil - even on undamaged skin. Neil made no comment, however, until after he was dry and realized he wouldn’t be able to put his own pants on. He looked forlornly at them on the counter.

“Maybe I could just wear bathrobes for the rest of my life.” 

Kevin, confused at first, followed his gaze and then snorted unkindly. 

“I don’t think you don’t want that kind of vulnerability right now. The others already want to wrap you in bubble wrap.”

Neil made a face, but stepped obediently forward when Kevin held out his underwear for him, neither of them feeling enough like assholes to point out the more demeaning aspects of the gesture. 

“That would be the opposite of helpful. Do they know anything about how wounds heal?” 

Kevin just shrugged. “You can fight with them about it when we get downstairs.”

Neil resigned himself to a long morning and said nothing until he had pants on finally. He’d chosen to come back to the Foxes, and that meant dealing with them at their best and at their stupidest.

Kevin was examining the shirt Andrew had picked out for Neil when the water cut off behind them. Both men turned their heads towards the black curtain when Andrew’s voice quickly followed.

“Get out.”

Surprisingly, Kevin moved to comply first. Neil lingered a moment, looking at the towel at his feet, before calling back.

“Do you need -?”

He didn’t finish the question before Andrew stuck his hand out of the curtain. Neil handed him the towel and then turned back to find Kevin looking between him and the ghost of Andrew’s arm with a look he couldn’t decipher. It didn’t dawn on him until after Kevin had already turned around and left - taking Neil’s shirt with him, that this might have been the first time he’d seen Andrew’s scars.

Neil had only been given that truth as a part of their game. A truth for a truth. For all the times that Andrew claimed he wasn’t suicidal, Neil had confronted him about it one night - or, more accurately about the knives he kept in his armbands. Rather than answer, Andrew had removed them. Neil had meant to offer up some of his own scars in return, but Andrew stubbed out his cigarette instead and pulled the bands back on before heading back inside. Two days later, they were being chased through a warehouse by harpies.

In the main room, Kevin stood with his back to Neil shirt still balled up in his hands. Neil hesitated. The bathroom door was shut behind him, but unless it was completely sound-proof Andrew would still be able to hear anything they said.

He took a step forward, his words careful and quiet as his movements.

“He stopped a long time ago.” Kevin looked up finally and there was an edge in his gaze that reminded Neil of when he got frustrated by Andrew’s refusal to help plan things, or work on perfecting techniques. Clearly this wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for - nevermind that Neil didn’t actually know what the question was.

His fists clenched, and the fae worked his jaw before speaking; a half-growled sentence he couldn’t even bring himself to finish.

“How could he even -?”

Neil stepped closer, moving slowly so as not to startle the other man. He placed his hands on Kevin - repaying his gentleness from earlier as he untwined the shirt from Kevin’s fingers. “Only he can answer that.” He reminded the fae. 

More than enough people had been trying to speak for Andrew his whole life. Neil refused to do the same.  _ “I won’t be like them. I won’t let you let me be.” _ He remembered a fragment of a rooftop conversation - spoken with unequivocal determination.

“But Kevin,” Neil waited until Kevin actually met his eye. He needed him to hear the words he wasn’t saying. “Andrew knew you were in the room when he stuck his arm out.” He knew Kevin would  _ see _ . And he’d done it without any hesitation. 

Kevin searched his expression. Looking for what, Neil didn’t know. But he must’ve seen something, because he nodded once and let Neil take the shirt from him.

He slipped the on sweater, soft and definitely not Neil’s by its size - though thankfully a neutral grey. He’d just tugged it down over the edge of his sweats when the door behind him opened and Andrew walked across the room to toss his sleep clothes into the dirty hamper. He also had an old grocery bag that Neil suspected contained  _ his _ old clothes. The bag was tossed unceremoniously out the window Neil knew Andrew used for smoking.

The werewolf then turned to look at them. A single eyebrow lifted and Neil followed his gaze down to the heavily wrinkled spot in his sweater. He shrugged.

They both waited to see if Kevin would say anything. When it became clear that he intended to stay silent, Andrew pushed between them and headed for the door. 

“Weren’t you both complaining about breakfast?” He called back on his way out, otherwise leaving them to figure out how to get Neil downstairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say I'm sorry that you got no shower kissing....but I'm not  
It just wouldn't be in line with the current story progression.
> 
> But!! As consolation, you can have the knowledge that originally the end of this chapter included Kevin angrily offering Neil a piggyback ride down the stairs. It pained me to cut it, but I didn't have a good way to end it from there.   
So, do with that what you will.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Neil shares a story, a scheme, and a smooch (or two).

The Foxes were gracious enough to wait until Neil had finished eating - his mug also emptied, before they finally pounced. He took his dishes to the sink and rinsed and put them in the dishwasher just to buy a little more time, but when he turned back around, it was to the expectant gaze of the entire house. He sighed.

“Alright then, what do you want to know?”

There was a pause, like no one wanted to be the first to ask the deluge of questions swirling through their minds. And then, predictably, they all started talking at once until Wymack shouted them all back into silence.

“Why don’t you just start at the beginning?” He said with a sigh, looking patiently at Neil like his own father never had.

And so he did.

He told them about his father, the atrocities he’d committed over the years under various names in various places. He told them about his mother, and how their union was supposed to bring tentative peace to two distrusting factions. He told them of the horrors it had brought on instead. He told them about what it was like growing up under his father’s unrelenting eye, his mother’s fierce protection - blinking in and out of wakeful existence as they saw fit. Waking up from forced hibernation had always been disorienting, he could never know how long had passed - an hour, a century? Sometimes Lola had enjoyed putting him under and waking him up over and over again over the course of a single day - driving the knife into his chest slowly with sick satisfaction until he succumbed just to pull it right back out again. 

He told them about the rest of Lola’s training, about the games he had to play to survive. He told them of the shift from Europe to the United States. He told them about the burgeoning partnership with the Moriyamas, the beginnings of a bloody patronage over three hundred years strong.

He told them about Evermore, about when he first met Riko and then Kevin. 

He told them about his mother taking him and running, seven years spent living as a human after centuries of being nothing more than a monster. He told them about the fleeting hope that stirred in his chest when Wymack offered him a place with the Foxes, the thought that maybe he could be something more. 

He told them about the kitsune and revealing himself to Kevin, about their promise to keep going until the end. He did not tell them about the truths he shared with Andrew, but that they made a similar deal. He told them about the warehouse and his resulting return to the Nest, about the tentative partnership he formed with Jean. 

He told them about the doomed fight with Jackson and his reunion with Lola. He told them he refused to be their victim any longer. 

He told them his father was dead.

Neil clenched his hang reflexively, the sense memory of crushing Nathan’s heart between his fingers still vivid. He looked up at the Foxes, focusing on their faces for the first time since he’d started talking. 

“My uncle said they’d been allowed to come to the house only on the stipulation that they left my father alive.” His voice was hoarse from talking so much and he gratefully accepted the water bottle Dan passed him, but didn’t open it right away. “I pretty much blew that out of the water though, so he’s going to have to renegotiate something with the Moriyamas.”

“And you’re the biggest bargaining chip.” Kevin said as Neil finally drank some of the water, letting it sooth his dry throat. He nodded.

“And I’m the biggest bargaining chip.” He paused, then tilted his head consideringly as he looked at the half-fae. “Or at least, I am for Stuart.” 

An idea was slowly forming in the back of his head and his gaze slid from Kevin over to where Wymack was leaning up against the wall. Before complete panic and outrage could wash over Kevin’s features, however, Nicky butt in with questions Neil suspected he’d been holding in for quite a while.

“Okay, but can we go back to the part where you’re like an old man in a young hottie’s body? You’re what like a thousand years old? How come you don’t have like an ‘aura of wisdom?’”

“That’s not a thing.” Allison and Seth both said at the same time, the ghost finally making himself known. “And even if it was, you’d still probably want to fuck him.” 

“Hey!” Nicky protested, rising to Seth’s antagonism. “Old men can be hot too.”

“Can you two fight about this some other time? Please.” Allison intervened, glaring at both the ghost and incubus until Nicky sighed and Seth just flicked her off before vaporizing.

Nicky leaned forward again once he was gone. “Could we at least talk about the Titanic? You really were onboard? Was it as romantic as the movie?” He sighed dreamily, his eyes alight with the glamour of Hollywood. 

“Let’s not.” 

Neil replied, the memories flooding to the surface. The Titanic was more like a horror movie, the iceberg a blessing. Neil’s father and most of his people had already moved over to the American continent. His mother had been summoned the week prior. Neil, on the other hand, had been dragged across in the custody of Lola and Romero. They paraded him around the lavish upper decks and high-class society parties like a debutante, all the while using their typical brand of violence in private to keep him in line. 

When the ship was going down, Lola had ensured she’d been placed on a boat of all children while he clung to the side with a handful of other teens. Whenever Nathaniel had entertained the thought of letting go and giving himself over to hypothermia, she’d gather one of the children close to her bosom and smile sharply at him over its head until he forced himself to stay awake or feed off of one of the others hanging on with him. At the start, there had been six of them holding on. In the end, there was only him. 

A rescue boat found Romero huddled on a piece of decking that could have held at least three other full grown men. He told the rescuers there had been sharks, but Nathaniel knew better. 

His expression must have shown some of this because Nicky didn’t argue the point and the others were quick to jump in and divert the conversation back to the present. 

“So your uncle is making a deal with the Moriyamas?” Dan asked, tentative, but clearly not liking the idea. 

Neil nodded. “With the main branch. They’re more…reliable, than Evermore.” He stalled, trying to find the right word. “Someone will probably try to contact us today.”

Stuart had wanted Neil to come with him, to be there to help make the deal. He’d had to threaten suicide in order to see the Foxes, bargaining the value of his life against theirs. Thankfully, Stuart was smart enough to realize that a rogue daywalker was still worth more than a dead one. Neil just hoped Ichirou would agree.

“The good news.” He continued on. “Is that I’m worth more to them than Riko.” 

Especially in the wake of his removal from Evermore, that much was evident. Riko’s obsession with Kevin and collecting his perfect little court of fighters had led to enough mistakes that his control over the Nest was just one push away from crumbling. All they really needed to do was control the fallout.

“We couldn’t do anything while I was hiding as a human. But now, everyone knows who and where I am, there’s no reason not to leverage that. Riko can’t touch me without bringing down the wrath of his brother - just like we couldn’t touch him for the same reason.”

“And you want to do that.” Allison said, with dawning clarity. “Goad him into making a mistake big enough Ichirou can’t ignore him anymore”

Neil nodded, though he was looking at Kevin as he spoke. “It’s time for the kingdom to come crumbling down.”

The half fae’s expression was tight, but Neil ignored him to look at the others. He could talk Kevin out of his insecurities later in private. For now, he was more concerned with the fire that seemed to be light in each of the other Foxes eyes. Even Aaron, who held disdain for Neil on the best of days seemed to be leaning forward in anticipation. Andrew, of course looked about as interested as he did in anything, but again, Neil could convince him later. In the end, it was Wymack who broke the silence.

“Well, where do we begin?”

Neil turned to Renee. “You’re familiar with spirit magiks, right?”

The phoenix nodded. “I am.”

“What can you tell me about soul-bonds?”

\- - - - - - - - 

The plan starts with Jean. 

Neil didn’t particularly like the gargoyle the majority of the time they were forced together, but he understood him. And even if he didn’t, no one deserved a fate like his. So after relaying the basics to them and giving a ballpark probability of whether they could pull it off or not, Renee led a team off to the library to begin figuring out the best way to free Jean from Riko without killing him. Neil knew the gargoyle probably wouldn’t thank them for it, but even if he decided to end his own life after the fact - at least it would be _ his _ choice. 

While Renee, Dan, Allison, and surprisingly Aaron looked into that, Wymack, Abby, Nicky, Matt, and Seth teamed up to bolster the Foxhole with whatever wards and resources might be necessary. They couldn’t completely rule out the possibility of a showdown (Neil wasn’t quite ready to inform them that part two of his plan pretty much banked on a large, Riko-shaped fallout) and so would rather be prepared in the event that things started to go wrong.

That left Neil, Andrew, and Kevin.

Hardly a moment after the other two groups broke off, Andrew pushed his chair away from the table and headed - undoubtedly, for the roof. Neil watched him go then turned to meet Kevin’s gaze. The half-fae stared back at him, clearly trying to formulate exactly how he wanted to yell at the daywalker. Before he could do so, however, Neil got up too.

“Come on.”

The blood was working well enough that as long as he didn’t swing his arms or bump into anything, Neil could make it up the stairs and outside with only mild discomfort. He accepted the lit cigarette from Andrew but didn’t take a drag, waiting and listening instead for the sound of Kevin following them up. It burned halfway to the filter before the door opened to reveal the fae’s tight expression.

Neil waited another moment before putting it out and handing it to Andrew.

“What?” He prompted, knowing Kevin would need the extra push to get going. Neil had no doubt he’d have plenty to say, it was just a matter of choosing which critique to lead with. In the end, it was Riko, always Riko.

“He’s going to be furious.” Kevin sounded like he was halfway there himself, but his voice shook in a way completely unrelated to the wind around them. 

Kevin was afraid.

Neil nodded, remaining calm despite the fear that poured off of Kevin. He wondered for a moment, if the scent of it was cloying to Andrew - or if he’d become so accustomed to it that he no longer noticed. “Good. He’s more likely to misstep when he’s angry.”

“No Nath- Neil, you don’t get it. He-”

Neil had heard enough. He didn’t even really care that Kevin had nearly called him by his birth name, not when there were far larger errors in his thinking to correct.

“What don’t I ‘get,’ Kevin? That there’s a supernatural egomaniac trying to control your life - or at least make it living hell, if he can’t do that? Do I not get that the one person who was supposed to love and care for you and be by your side has been nothing short of cruel to you instead? Or is it the way that even though he’s miles away, you feel him constantly closing in, waiting to bring you back in so he can sink his claws back into you? Is that what I don’t get?”

Kevin was silent, stunned by the harsh transparency. Vulnerability was hard come by in their world and Neil had just laid them both bare. The fae’s eyes flicked back towards where Andrew was still smoking, facing away from them but definitely listening. Neil paid him no mind, though. He’d promised Andrew the truth months ago and this, more than any timeline, was the heart of it.

Neil stepped forward and pulled Kevin’s hand under the collar of his shirt to the place he knew Riko had tried to carve his ownership into Neil’s shoulder blade - a place he knew Jean and Kevin bore similar sequential marks. Unlike numbers two and three, however, Neil’s skin was almost smooth under Kevin’s touch. 

“Riko’s scars on me have already faded.” He said quietly, the steadiness a calming contrast to his prior rant. “Why won’t you let yours heal?”

Kevin shuddered, his palm clammy against Neil’s skin. Behind them, there was a quiet rustle of fabric signalling movement from Andrew, but Neil kept his gaze locked on Kevin’s.

“It’s not that simple.” He tried to reason, pleading.

Neil gripped his wrist tighter.

“_ Caoimhín,” _He said gently, waiting for Kevin to meet his eyes. “Do you trust us?”

Once again, Kevin looked over his shoulder at Andrew. Neil was willing to bet the werewolf was facing them now, meeting Kevin’s fear with his own steadfast blankness. He paused a moment to wonder what Kevin saw when he looked into the werewolf’s eyes.

“Riko thinks he can own you.” Neil continued. “But _ we know you _. Let us hold you up if you don’t think you can do it yourself.”

Kevin’s gaze never left Andrew, but he swallowed and nodded - weakly at first and then more solidly. “I...yeah, okay.”

“You’re not just a fae,” Neil reminded him, leaving his words open enough that he wasn’t outing Kevin’s heritage without his permission. He’d already risked using the other man’s true name, but he didn’t want to push him too far. “Maybe it’s time to prove that to the world, or to Jean, at least.”

Kevin nodded again, finally looking at Neil once more. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then the door to the roof opened once more and Renee’s head and shoulders appeared through the gap.

“Sorry to interrupt,” She said, tactfully not drawing attention to the strange way Neil and Kevin were standing. “But Kevin, if I might borrow you for a moment? We have a few final questions about Evermore before we get going.”

Kevin startled slightly, pulling away from Neil to face her. “You’re heading out already?”

She nodded. “I was under the impression that this was better taken care of sooner rather than later.”

Under different circumstances, Neil might have laughed at how easily disarmed by her kindness Kevin was. Of course, he didn’t really have room to judge, with how it unnerved him. The half-fae recovered quickly though, and straightened.

“Of course.” He said, moving to join her. He paused in the doorway, though, and looked back at Neil and Andrew.

“Later.” Neil said, waving him on. “Help them get Jean out first.”

He waited for the door to close behind Kevin before turning back to face Andrew. 

As he’d suspected, the werewolf was also facing him - though he had moved closer away from the edge. Now, just a few feet away, he was looking at Neil like he had when he’d first come to Columbia. Unlike those first few weeks, however, Neil didn’t shrink or hide from the examination.

‘Nice to see that the attitude, at least, wasn’t a lie.” He said at last, returning to the ledge to smoke. 

Neil rolled his eyes and stepped forward to join him, kindly not pointing out that he was raising the remains of Neil’s cigarette to his lips.

“Everything I told you was true.” Andrew glanced sideways at him, his eyebrow raised in challenge. “Incomplete maybe, but true.” Neil conceded. 

“Those ouchies are not just from a life on the run.” Andrew pointed out, his gaze shifting to where a clear outline of an iron was burned into Neil’s shoulder under his borrowed shirt. 

Neil tilted his head in concession. Most of the things that stuck wouldn’t be.

“Without blood, human injuries tend to heal slower, but they do fade eventually.” He explained. “Silver, fire and holy water are the weaknesses of my father’s kind, though.”

Any wound caused by them, he was stuck with forever, regardless of his eating habits. It was why Riko’s marks were no longer visible, but things from his childhood remained blotchy and puckered. Andrew seemed to catch his drift and his eyes flicked up to the mass of red welts under Neil’s left eye. “And that?”

“Dashboard lighter.” Neil said succinctly.

The werewolf didn’t gasp or flinch away the way the rest of the Foxes had when they’d first seen the damage to his face. In fact, he didn’t react at all except for the way the storm in his eyes grew darker. After a moment, he turned away again, apparently satisfied.

Neil lets the silence between them stretch, rolling his own thoughts and memories roll around in his head until they formed a cohesive train of thought.

“On the roof that night,” He began, talking slowly into the breeze, but not looking over at Andrew. “When you threatened to throw me off.” _When you almost kissed me_. He didn’t add. The tensing of Andrew’s shoulders told him he didn’t need to.

There was no threat of violence or deflection, though, so he kept going.

“You said I was too stupid to tell you ‘no.’ But what if I don’t want to?”

Finally, Andrew looked over at him, stubbing his cigarette out and flicking it over the edge of the roof to the ground below.

“I still hate you.” He reminded Neil, voice biting. 

Neil swallowed, nodding. “That’s okay.”

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked, bringing a hand up to grip the back of Neil’s neck. Its weight was comforting and warm.

_ “Yes.” _ He breathed.

Andrew leaned closer and growled, “91%.” And then he closed the distance between their mouths.

Neil had kissed people before, either under the threat of violence or his own timid explorations while on the run (which also, coincidentally, resulted in violence when his mother found out). Neither experience prepared him for this.

Andrew’s hands cupped his face, grip solid and directing, but not painful. Like the rest of him, the werewolf’s mouth was hot as it coaxed Neil’s open. Nothing about the kiss was delicate, but Neil found himself leaning in all the same. It was like a fight and coming home all at once. Physical touch was something in his life that had only carried pain and violence before, but now he craved it. A bit dazed by the realization, he couldn’t even be mad at the quiet whine that escaped his lips when Andrew pulled away.

“Sorry.” He breathed, glancing down at where his hands had caught in the sleeves of Andrew’s sweatshirt - a desperate attempt to return his touch but still respect Andrew’s boundaries..

Andrew just looked at him like he was stupid for a moment before taking Neil’s hands in his own. He moved them behind Neil, backing them up until his fingertips touched the edge of the roof’s perimeter wall. 

“Stay.” Andrew commanded. His voice was calm, but his pupils had blown out to twice the size they should be in the mid-morning sun.

Neil nodded, taking a small step even further back so that he practically sat on his hands. Andrew’s gaze darkened even further and he once again closed the distance. Neil was acutely aware of just how easy it would be for him to lean back and fall - or be pushed - off the roof. But Andrew’s strong grip kept him anchored there - one hand curled around the base of his neck and the other pressed against his chest. 

Even as he held Neil in place, Andrew directed him to where he wanted with single-minded focus. If he had any braincells that hadn’t been shorted out by the slick slide of his tongue and the press of his lips, Neil might’ve wondered how he had any focus at all. He’d heard of tunnel vision before, but didn’t think he’d ever experience it outside of a fight-or-flight reaction. Now though, the only thought he could muster of the world outside of Andrew’s mouth and hands was that he was acutely grateful to be wearing sweatpants and not jeans.

Neil had no idea how much time had passed before Andrew’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Though dazed, he felt a satisfied smirk creep across his face when Andrew let out a subvocal growl at the interruption. It wasn’t often that he let his lycanthropy show through outside of full moons unless he was making a deliberate show of violence. The thought that kissing Neil had affected him enough for that control to slip, even a little, brought more warmth to him than the bright sun.

Andrew glanced up from his phone and wasted no time showing Neil what he thought of his smirk. The hand not holding the device engulfed his face and shoved it away, not hard enough to truly push him over - but with enough force that Neil had to scrabble at the edge of the retaining wall to keep from losing his balance. Rather than trust his legs to hold him up on their own, he sank to the ground, leaning back against the concrete.

He laughed, the first truly happy sound he’d made since going to Evermore. 

Speaking of the place, Andrew finished typing out his reply quickly before tucking the phone back into his pocket again. His eyes were still dark, but the wildness in them had faded. “That was Renee. They got into Evermore.”

“Good.” Neil punctuated his response with a single nod. Getting _ out _ of Evermore was the real trick, but if anyone could do it, it was Renee. Besides, he doubted she would have wasted the time giving them an update if things weren’t going well.

Unconsciously, Neil pulled his lower lip into his mouth, prodding at the sore spot on it from when Andrew must have bitten at it. He met the werewolf’s gaze again and grinned.

“My, what _big teeth_ you have.” He said, deliberately flashing his own in response to the deadpan look Andrew shot him in return.

“93%” He monotoned then turned away to wrench the access door open before Neil could get another wolf joke in.

Neil didn’t realize he’d been expecting the kiss to taste like blood until Andrew had already disappeared inside and there was nothing but sugar and smoke on his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the beginning of the end!
> 
> If you liked it - or didn't - please feel free to scream at me in the comments.


End file.
